


Pomegranates

by chrissy_sky



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cozy, Falling In Love, Families of Choice, M/M, Muggles Studies is not a useless class, Original Characters - Freeform, Past Abuse, Previously Unknown Family Member, Raising children, Recovery from past abuse, References to Tolkien, Romance, The Wizarding World Needs Social Services, Vague and overt references to Greek Mythology, references to alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 16:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15889335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrissy_sky/pseuds/chrissy_sky
Summary: AU of Philosopher's Stone: A new Muggles Studies professor comes to Hogwarts, leading to positive changes in Neville's life, and to Snape conquering his past.





	1. Endure Even the Gods

**Author's Note:**

> The 'year one' of this universe has been written for well over a year, but I'm not really sure if anyone will super be interested in it. So I'll publish a few chapters and see what people think! And as we used to say during the Three Year Summer, it's not been Brit-Picked and I don't claim to be perfect. I wish I knew more 90s British slang. 
> 
> Also not sure where the mythology stuff came from, it just happened over the course of writing and I just rolled with it. Muses are funny things. 
> 
> 'Laurence' himself came to me in a dream, as far as I remember.

1\. Endure Even the Gods

The staff assembled before the new school year so that their illustrious Headmaster could introduce a newcomer. Quirinus had gotten the difficult-to-fill position of Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, which had left his previous position in Muggle Studies empty. Albus almost miraculously found someone to fill in. More swiftly than many of them had expected, in fact, given how allergic most wizards seemed to be to muggle culture. 

Of course, there was good reason for much of that feeling. Severus still thought that not all of Salazar's decrees were flawed. 

The new instructor stood out like a sore thumb in the room of older adults. The young man had to still be in his early twenties, Severus reckoned, with soft features that looked like they hadn't quite lost their baby fat, and sandy blond hair. There was something familiar about the lad and taking in the others speaking to him already, he took it that they remembered him too.

A former student then, Severus assumed. 

Having no interest in Muggle Studies, he was already bored and hung at the back of the room. He was only there because of the formality, because Albus expected him to make an appearance, and would leave just as soon as the meeting was over. He had experiments and studies to write up before the school year would start, when he would have little time for intellectual pursuits. 

"Thank you all, for gathering together today," Albus began, eyes already twinkling in a way that instinctively caused a headache to begin forming in the back of Severus' skull. He spoke softly but in his usual manner that dispelled all other conversation in the staff room. 

"I'm sure at least most of you have heard about Quirinus being appointed as the Defense professor," Albus continued, as Quirrell preened in way that was both proud and uncertain, somehow.

"For the year, you mean," Flitwick muttered under his breath. 

Severus held in a snort at the Charms' professor's sarcasm, but just barely. It was a common source of gossip among the other professors, as each choice of Defense instructor only ever lasted a year. If that. Severus himself had had to fill in on a number of occasions when the instructor had to leave early under mysterious circumstances. 

No one was sure why. There were plenty of theories of course, hence the gossip.

Albus, to his credit, pretended he didn't hear Filius' comment. "I've already found a highly qualified Muggle Studies instructor, whom you'll all be pleased to learn, has lived in muggle London for a few years and has agreed to update the syllabus considerably." 

"Considering it hasn't been updated since the '50s, that's not saying much," Minerva commented to Severus out of the corner of her mouth. 

Severus ducked his head, allowing his long hair to hide another smirk of his own.

Albus cleared his throat firmly, the only indication the Headmaster gave that he heard her. "Some of you might recognize him, as he graduated from our institution only five years ago. I'm very proud to present to you, Laurence Longbottom. "

He waved the young man over, who flushed at the modest clapping from the rest of the staff. 

_Longbottom…_ Something unpleasant settled in the pit of his stomach as his mind was instantly filled with memories of a summer ten years ago. A spied upon prophecy, a mad lord, a dead best friend, and two orphaned babies. 

And it was his fault. For being a coward. For not listening to Lily's common sense. For not going to Dumbledore sooner. 

He'd never disliked Frank and Alice; he'd hardly known them. In fact, from what he'd learned of them during the war, he'd respected their skill and ability to work together. They'd been two halves of a whole, people often said, and their cunning minds had outsmarted many Death Eaters in their time. 

Now they were shadows of their former selves, in that damned ward in St. Mungo's. Their son essentially orphaned. 

His fault, just as much as what had happened to Lily and Potter. Lily's son would never know her cleverness, her kindness, her bravery. Even the little things, like how she went a whole year wearing a David Bowie shirt under her robes until it was completely worn out. 

While others would be celebrating the tenth year since Voldemort's defeat, Severus would be trying very hard not to think about it. 

Except now he would have to. Every day. 

Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom would both be turning eleven this year. Their invitation letters were waiting to be sent out. 

As far as _Laurence_ Longbottom was concerned, Severus' vague memory finally stirred at the name. Ravenclaw, studious and hardworking, stayed out of trouble, kept mostly to himself. He'd taken Potions for both his OWLs and NEWTs, if Severus remembered correctly, the boy having had moderately good marks in his class. Not particularly gifted, but skilled enough.

He didn't look much like Frank, apart from possibly the brown eyes and round face. Frank had plain, though strong features, while the blond boy had grown into his looks to be considered… quite attractive, if Severus were to be honest. 

The meeting was finally breaking up, after some discussion about plans for the school year (and some questions about the Potter boy, of course, which Severus dutifully ignored), and he headed for the door.

To his surprise, a hand on his arm stopped him, as well as a hesitant, "Professor?"

Severus pulled his arm from the touch, more out of instinct than anything, but paused as he found soft, concerned brown eyes looking directly at him. 

_At least they weren't green,_ he thought darkly. "What is it?" he demanded, not intending his voice to come out in a growl, but nonetheless it did.

Longbottom winced a little at the tone but carried on. "I was wondering if… perhaps you would give your permission for me to use the Potions lab on occasion? I can brew in my rooms but it's not quite the same as experimenting in a laboratory. Nor as safe."

Severus paused, glancing around the room. Conversations had built back up and no one was really paying them any mind. He frowned at the younger man again, pondering the request. "Experimenting?"

Laurence's cheeks flushed prettily. "Oh dear, I didn't mean to offend you--I'm nowhere near _that_ skilled--but I'm worried that I've allowed much of my training to become lax. I lived in the muggle world for a time, getting my teaching license, and I didn't use magic during that time. So I'm hoping with some practice, I can pick things up again. Potions, Charms, the essentials. Professor Flitwick--Filius, I mean--has offered some assistance as well."

Severus nodded slowly. It was a reasonable request and Laurence would be a coworker, not a student. "Very well. As long as you stay out of the way and don't expect tutelage. I work on my own potions, when the time allows, and they require my full attention."

"Of course." Laurence brightened minutely, the relief mostly in his eyes. "I'll be as quiet as a mouse."

Severus rolled his eyes skyward, deciding not to remark that mice were not all that quiet. "Why did you live as a muggle?"

"Oh…" A guarded look came over the young man's face, almost unnoticeable, but perfectly visible to Snape. "I was never particularly remarkable as a student. I didn't have many prospects. Nor did my relatives want me around when I couldn't live up to the family name. So..."

Severus frowned down at the young man. That wasn't what he recollected, plenty of more incompetent Hogwarts students had gone on to fill positions in the Ministry of Magic, but he kept that to himself. 

Flitwick got the young man's attention and Snape fled before he could be drawn into another conversation.

But instead of going straight to his rooms, he took a small detour to his office. He'd never particularly liked being lied to. 

Looking through old notebooks, he eventually found one he'd kept five years ago. Skimming through his notes on Longbottom, Snape was able to confirm for himself that the boy had indeed been reasonably skilled in Potions. Nothing that would have urged anyone to push him toward a mastery but more than adequate nonetheless. 

He didn't _want_ to care, but it was a mystery, and it was something else to ponder instead of dwelling on the anniversary and the Potter boy, so it was hard not to. 

-

On the anniversary, Laurence found himself wandering the grounds of Hogwarts. 

In a lot of ways, it was good to be back. Hogwarts had been his sanctuary during the years with his father, and then the years with his Gran after the authorities had been called. But with that sense of security also came memories of things that he'd left the wizarding world for, shortly after graduating, in order to try and forget.

It wasn't until he was living as a muggle, Laurence realized that just changing his entire existence wasn't enough to run away from the demons that haunted him.

He wasn't brave enough quite yet to return to the Longbottom estate and spend the day with Gran and Neville, though the idea of his innocent little cousin being forced to spend the anniversary alone with that woman (once again) made him feel intensely guilty. While she may not have been as bad as his father, she was still a cruel and harsh caretaker. 

He had owled the boy that morning though, letting Nev know that he'd see him at the start of term and asking if he'd gotten his Hogwarts letter yet. His cousin had quite a substantial bit of magic, always had, so Laurence didn't doubt he'd be arriving with the other firsties in the boats in a few days. 

He'd gotten an eager, though shy and uncertain response, and Laurence felt his guilt grow. 

In running away from his problems, he'd also run away from Neville. He hadn't intended to, but he had. There was just no way he could have legally taken the boy with him, not with Gran being such a respected member of wizarding society. The proud and noble mother of Frank Longbottom, another victim to You-Know-Who's reign of terror. No one would believe she liked to hang the boys by their toes when she was angry with them. 

Laurence eventually found himself in front of the lake, leaning against an aged beech tree and staring out at the water, watching the sunset glowing orange on the horizon. Lost in memories more than thought, he hadn't noticed anyone approaching until he saw a dark shape out of the corner of his eye.

Snape looked just as surprised to find him there, but he quickly schooled his features and turned his dark gaze to the sunset. "My apologies," the other professor said stiffly. "I didn't realize this spot was occupied."

"Professor," Laurence greeted as neutrally as he could. "It's fine. This spot is big enough for two, surely."

For some reason, he was afraid to admit that he'd rather not be alone with his grief and memories, especially when they were so close to the surface again, like now. 

Snape seemed to ignore that, but he didn't leave, either. Eventually, the man spoke up again, his voice strangely low and not filled with venom. "Do you remember much of what happened?"

"Not really," Laurence admitted quietly, eyes focusing back on the lake. "I was quite young. I remember people being scared. I vaguely remember my mother… She died the night Uncle Frank and Aunt Alice were attacked, protecting everyone during a Death Eater raid on the estate."

He sensed more than saw Snape shifting uneasily. Glancing over, he noticed no difference apart from the Potions Master now had his arms folded over his chest. "Your mother…"

"Ester Longbottom nee Francis," Laurence told him. 

"Ah, yes. She received quite a bit of attention for marrying a muggle." 

Laurence tried to hold in a wince at the mention of his father. "My name was changed to Longbottom when my grandmother took me in."

"Your father?"

"Muggle prison," Laurence said. "Though I suppose he's out now. There's been no contact." Not that Gran would've told him if there had been. 

If that were the case, just this once, Laurence was grateful for her unforgiving nature.

"Ah." He could feel Snape's gaze but the man didn't press further. "And I hear your cousin is starting this year as well."

"As far as I know," Laurence sighed. "Much to the rest of the family's confusion. They all thought he was a squib, the idiots."

"Oh?" 

"Yes, none of them caught on that Nev's so strong, he's been using subtle wandless magic since he was a baby." Laurence knew he sounded angry but he couldn't help it. "They'd torture the poor boy trying to get him to use overt magic. One of our uncle's dropped him out a window. I was flying nearby on a practice broom and swooped down to catch him, but I would've been too late. Luckily, he bounced, and I was able to catch Nev on his second trip."

He glanced over, certain he'd said far too much. Professor Snape never cared what many people had to say, he was an insular and taciturn man, but instead of looking bored, the Potions Master was absolutely _furious_. 

"They would do that, to _Frank and Alice Longbottom's son_?" Snape spat.

Laurence nodded gravely. "Gran encouraged it. She's always been harsh on Nev, saying he was unworthy of being Frank's son. I wanted to take him with me, but… Who would believe me?" he asked, shrugging helplessly. 

"I would," Snape said hollowly. "I do."

Laurence gazed at the normally distant man, remembering the nervousness and respect he'd had for Snape as a student. He couldn't help but feel sad and guilty that he hadn't tried to reach out to someone sooner, but also tentatively grateful that he was being believed now. "But why? You surely don't remember me as a student and that's hardly a qualification for trust."

Snape looked back out at the lake, but he didn't seem any less angry. "You were abused too, weren't you."

Laurence flinched at the accusation, but he couldn't lie. Snape could always tell if someone lied. "Yes," he whispered. 

Thankfully, Snape asked for no details. "That's why. I can tell. For not noticing it before, when you were a student… We all owe you more than an apology, for failing you."

Laurence could tell the words were difficult for the man to say, and that he was still very angry. While incredibly embarrassed, part of him was intensely grateful for it. "There are hundreds of students that attend Hogwarts every year. Sometimes from all over Europe. None of you are to blame for not noticing one boy's troubled life."

"You hold no bitterness toward us."

"No, not at all. Why?"

"I would."

Laurence smiled sadly, sensing what Snape didn't say--that he did hold some bitterness toward Hogwarts, though he couldn't be sure why. "That's why I left wizarding London. But I'm still British so I only went as far as the muggle world. Had my wand stored away and took on a muggle identity. I only wish I'd been able to take Nev with me. At least he'll be able to come here for a few months out of the year, then he'll become of age and he'll be able to leave home entirely."

"What brought you back?" Snape asked softly.

"A letter from the Headmaster and my own issues," Laurence confessed honestly. "I could run away from being a wizard, but not my problems. No matter what I did. After I finished getting my teaching credentials, I returned and heard the news that the Headmaster was looking to fill a vacancy. It seemed almost like fate. I only hope that I can make it up to Nev somehow for abandoning him..."

There was a pause, and Snape said awkwardly, "That you care enough to feel that way is a good start, I imagine."

Laurence forced a weak smile. "I hope so." 

A troubled silence fell between them and it was only then that Laurence realized why the man must've been out there. He gasped and looked at Snape guiltily. 

"By the Gods, I'm so sorry. Here I am babbling about my problems, when you were actually _in the war_." Laurence bowed guilty, his face so warm that he was sure he must've been bright red. "I didn't mean to offend you, sir."

Snape was frowning at him when he stood straight again. After a moment, he waved a dismissive hand. "Ten years of wallowing is good for no one, I suppose. Besides, you are… interesting."

Laurence felt himself blushing for an entirely _different_ reason. "I'm really not, sir. I'm quite ordinary."

Snape's frown deepened but he didn't comment on that. "Supper will have been served by now. Let's get you back inside so the House Elves can fuss over you."

The tall, dark man moved back toward the school, and by his tone, Laurence knew it would be unwise to disobey what was clearly an order. So he followed him back to the castle.


	2. Right Where I Belong

2\. Right Where I Belong

Harry was relieved to see a familiar face--that of his new friend, Hagrid--waiting on the shore for the students to arrive. He rushed over to him as soon as it seemed safe enough, sensing that Ron was following a bit more hesitantly. 

Hagrid greeted him happily, a big hand on his unruly head, before he introduced him to the young man standing there with him. "'Arry, this is Professor Longbottom."

Harry nodded at the blond man shyly. "Hi."

The professor looked like he was about to greet him in return when there was a wordless cry from the boats behind them.

Harry turned to look back and saw one of the boys from the train, the one with the missing frog, come rushing up to them. He flung himself at the professor, who caught the boy up and held him tight. 

"Neville," the man said, his voice tight as if he were about to cry.

Neville, from the sound of it, was sobbing in the professor's shoulder.

"Everything a'ight there, L'rence?" Hagrid asked, some obvious moisture in his own eyes.

Professor Longbottom smiled up at the tall giant. "We're alright, Hagrid, thank you. Let's gather up the rest of the Firsties and take them to Professor McGonagall." 

Harry looked at Ron in confusion, but the redhead only shrugged, just as confused as he was. 

"You must be Harry Potter," said Professor Longbottom softly, bending down as he continued to hold Neville. His eyes were incredibly kind in the torchlight. 

Harry nodded shyly, waiting for the strange hero worship or even pity that he'd gotten from strangers the last two days. 

Instead, the man just smiled gently. "You and Neville have a lot in common. He lost his parents too, to the same man. Can you promise to look after each other for me?"

Harry glanced at the sniffling boy, uncertain, but he nodded, thinking about the parents he'd never really known about until Hagrid had filled him in. The thought that he wasn't the only war orphan hadn't really occurred to him. 

He also remembered how no one had ever looked out for him before he met Hagrid, and how lonely he felt. So the other boy, Neville, must have felt just as lonely as he. 

"Yes, sir," he promised.

For some reason, the promise made Ron pout, but before Harry could ask what was wrong, Hagrid had finished assembling the First Years together and they made their way to the fantastic castle just in front of them.

_A real, magic castle._ Just like from the Disney films that he was only allowed a few scant seconds to watch, while scrubbing the dishes or fetching laundry. He'd always wanted to see more magic.

Now he was getting his chance at long last.

-

When they reached the Main Hall, Laurence was very reluctant to set Neville down--it had been so long since he'd seen his cousin, held him, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to protect him from the entire world. At least Neville had stopped crying, but it didn't make the man feel any less protective. 

"Laurence," McGonagall addressed the new professor, her voice kind but firm. "Even though you won't be teaching your cousin for three years, it would be preferable if you maintained some professionalism. Neville needs to be sorted with the others."

Laurence nodded sadly and set Neville down on his feet, his heart clenching as the boy grabbed onto his robes. 

He touched the boy's small hands gently. "I'll be at the head table," Laurence promised. "Not far at all."

Neville bit his lip, but eventually nodded and let him free. 

"Go on," McGonagall said, her voice gentling even more. "I'll take care of him from here."

Laurence nodded gratefully and went to join the other instructors finally. The only empty seat was beside Snape, but he didn't find himself minding at all, despite his embarrassment over revealing too much to the man the evening before. 

He didn't talk about those things, to anyone. Apart from a therapist he'd told an abbreviated version of the events to while he was living as a Muggle, but he'd needed to stop seeing her once he returned. There was certainly not that kind of help in the Wizarding World, it was seen as too "muggle." When wizards had even heard of therapy at all.

It had, personally, helped him a lot. Laurence wasn't "all better" now but that wasn't really the point. 

Yet despite the embarrassment, he'd opened up to Snape, who seemed to strangely sympathize with what little Laurence had told him, and Laurence planned to earn that show of trust. No matter how difficult it would be, and he was sure it would be. 

"Alright?" Snape surprised him by asking as Laurence sat down.

"Yes," Laurence forced himself to respond, cheeks warm. "It was just harder than I imagined, seeing Nev again. I didn't want to let him go."

Dark eyes remained emotionless, guarded, but the man nodded to show he understood and turned his attention to the Headmaster as the opening speech started. 

Laurence leaned back in his cushioned seat, attempting to relax and pay attention, but his eyes often returned to where Neville waited with the First Years. McGonagall took over and the sorting began. 

He remembered how much Neville loved to read, loved learning, when he was younger, and Laurence enjoyed teaching him even then. So he gasped softly when Neville was placed in Gryffindor, barely louder than the polite applause this earned, but the man next to him heard it nonetheless.

"Not what you expected?" Snape asked as McGonagall moved onto the next student down the line. 

Laurence shook his head, troubled. "Gran doesn't exactly nurture bravery. I can't bring myself to be optimistic enough to believe that she got better at it somehow."

"Bravery with the absence of fear is merely a suicidal complex," Snape responded softly. "Trust that the Hat knows what it's doing." 

Laurence swallowed thickly but he nodded. 

The little blond that Laurence had watched interacting (badly) with Harry Potter earlier was next to take his seat with the hat. But it was barely placed on his head before the hat shouted "SLYTHERIN!" proudly.

"Naturally," Snape commented with a smirk.

Laurence thought it was less smug and more tired, though, and he couldn't be sure why. Other than realizing, suddenly, that it was probably not easy taking charge of Slytherins year after year. He resisted the urge to reach over and pat the man's arm. 

Harry Potter was placed in Gryffindor as well, after a tense pause that went on longer than Laurence ever remembered, and beside him, Snape snorted derisively once the Hat had decided.

"Again, no surprise there," the man muttered.

Laurence tilted his head curiously and watched as Snape continued to glare at the boy.

Snape seemed to notice Laurence's stare and looked at him, features softening with something like… embarrassment?

"Old history," he murmured by way of explanation.

Laurence offered a weak smile. "I know something about bad memories. Harry seemed nice enough when I asked him to look after Neville."

"Did he." Snape did not sound like he believed that.

Laurence nodded. "I did mention that Nev's parents were also attacked by You-Know-Who. He looked surprised. I wonder how much he's been told about what happened."

Snape hummed, not appearing as though he believed Laurence entirely, but he'd at least stopped glaring.

One of the last to be sorted was the redhead that had come off the boats with Harry Potter, a boy named Ronald Weasley. 

Snape sighed in pure aggravation, growling, "Not another one," and Laurence covered a smile with his hand. 

"Like rabbits, that family," Laurence commented, giving the older man an eyebrow wiggle that had Snape choking.

It took him a beat to realize that it was surprised laughter, but conjured and poured him a glass of water regardless. 

Snape sipped from the glass, studiously ignoring the odd looks his amusement had garnered, and Laurence did the same, feeling as though their coworkers must also have noticed his own red face.

It had been so long since he'd made someone else laugh. 

-

His first few days were hectic, in between teaching magical children for the first time--he had a surprising amount of students curious enough to learn about Muggles among the Third Years, all the way up to Seventh--as well as the mysterious break-in at Gringotts, his own personal studies, and trying to keep the children from talking to reporters about Harry Potter. 

An attempt made all the more difficult after the First Year Gryffindors' first Potions class. 

"So," Laurence said carefully into his teacup that night during supper, keeping his voice low, "students are talking about a certain incident in Potions today."

"Oh?" Snape didn't look up from the book his was thumbing through, only absently poking at his own meal. He would occasionally glance up to glare across the table at Quirinus, whose garlic scent was wafting all the way across the table that evening, and Laurence assumed that was why. 

"I had to intercept a few of them trying to talk to Rita Skeeter about it," he added. "Quite persistent, that woman." 

The older professor sneered in distaste at his book. 

"What did he do to make you so angry?" he found himself asking with more bluntness than he intended. 

The glare turned on him. "It's none of your concern, Longbottom, so stay out of it."

Laurence couldn't help his instinctive flinch, ducking his head in compliance. He hadn't meant to be that tactless and began correcting his behavior in his mind. "I'm sorry," he said quickly.

Snape sighed and closed the book softly. Not slamming it down as the younger man would've expected. "No, it's… far from your fault," Snape said in a far different tone.

Laurence looked up tentatively and the glare, at least, was gone, replaced Snape's usual look of mild grumpiness. An improvement. "What did the boy do?" he asked, uncertain if he should even say anything more.

"Nothing," Snape admitted. "Writing during class. I reacted before I even noticed he was merely taking notes. I allowed my anger to get the better of me… Such as right now." 

He spoke in the same tone as the awkward apology given underneath the tree, on the 31st, that Laurence couldn't help but forgive him. "I was being invasive," he offered. 

"You were doing your job," Snape corrected. "If the children are reacting to it like you say. The Headmaster has enough to deal with at the moment."

"Hm?" 

"Nothing to concern yourself with." This time, it was not said unkindly, though he resumed glaring across the table at Quirrell. "How are your personal studies going?"

Laurence was surprised by the nonsequitor but shifted gears accordingly. "Fairly well. Flitwick says I'm remembering Charms so quickly that he has a hard time believing I'm out of practise." 

"When will you be ready to move onto Potions?"

"Soon, I hope," Laurence admitted shyly.

Snape nodded and offered Laurence the book he'd been reading. "This is about a number of advances done in the Potions field in the last four years. If you're interested…"

Laurence couldn't help his smile as he accepted the book, the lead weight that had settled in his stomach lessening tremendously. He hadn't even realized how anxious he'd been feeling, since Snape had snapped at him. "Yes, I am, thank you."

Snape seemed surprised by his eagerness, dark eyes widening fractionally, but he merely nodded in acceptance and resumed his new occupation of Keeping an Eye on Quirrell. 

Laurence would have been jealous, except he was supposed to be too old for childish crushes, and as far as he knew, Snape had never given Quirrell any books. 

-

Nearly a week later, the next "Potter Incident" happened. 

Laurence did not even know about it until after the fact, when Snape interrupted his rather excited lecture on the history of television, both technical and in practise, and its effect on popular Muggle culture. 

Snape, at least, did not storm in; instead he stood just inside the open doorway and cleared his throat. "Professor Longbottom, Professor McGonagall has requested that our presences in her office immediately."

"Oh," Laurence breathed, the wind flying out of his sails to have to stop in the middle of television's impact in American and British elections. He sat down the chalk in his hand, absently wiping his fingers on his robes, and cast a monitoring charm. "If any fighting breaks out, that takes 10 points from both your Houses," he explained to the class.

The students shifted uneasily in their seats and Laurence rushed to follow Snape. "What happened?" he asked once they were in the hallway.

Snape walked quickly, with his long legs, and Laurence soon grew out of breath trying to keep up. "First Year flying lessons, fighting broke out between Malfoy and Potter. Your cousin, I'm afraid, was involved." 

"Oh no," Laurence gasped and quickened his steps to a near run, worried that he would get to Minerva's office and discover Neville covered in some gruesome condition. 

Instead, all three boys looked unharmed, though they could have been healed since then. Malfoy and Potter were directly in front of McGonagall, glaring at each other, while Neville sat on the couch. 

Laurence hurried to his cousin and pulled Neville into his arms, holding tight while the boy clung to him. "Shh, it's alright," he murmured, smoothing down Neville's hair. 

Neville sniffed, rather loudly in the otherwise quiet office, and Draco Malfoy began to whine. 

"I didn't mean to make him cry!" the boy said to Snape.

"The hell you didn't!" Harry yelled, glaring at him.

"Enough!" McGonagall interrupted, in clear frustration, as if this was not the first argument she'd stopped today between them. "Now, I've heard some rather colorful explanations about what happened, but I'd like to hear Mr. Longbottom's side before the three of us decide what to do with you."

Malfoy slumped in his seat, folding his arms over his small chest. "You'll just side against me. Everyone does."

Laurence frowned at the boy. He'd only met Draco briefly--he was too young to take Muggle Studies and was doubtful to show an interest in it, being from a rather substantial Pure Blood family, but he'd initially assumed the boy was just incredibly spoiled. "Why wouldn't we believe you?" he asked the boy gently. 

Malfoy pouted at him, looking hurt and dejected, but his mouth remained firmly closed. 

"Because he's a twat," Potter muttered, but it was loud enough in the quiet office. 

"Harry!" Laurence scolded, then blushed as this garnered stares from his coworkers. "I mean, Mr. Potter. That's inappropriate."

"He picked on Neville for no reason and stole his--his thing!" 

"Remembrall," Neville supplied shyly.

"Yeah, that!" 

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tell us what happened, Mr. Longbottom. And you two," he pointed at Potter and Malfoy, glaring, " _be silent_."

Neville hesitated, looking around the room in fear, but eventually he started talking. "I was trying to call my broomstick up, like Madam Hooch said, and it hit my head. _Hard._ "

Laurence frowned and glanced up at Snape. "Could it be, his core magic--?"

Snape was already nodding before he could finish. "Quite. Minerva, I've noticed it as well during my first class with him; Mr. Longbottom has a rather potent magical core. To the point of it being excessive. From what I've learned from Professor Longbottom, it seems he was showing signs very early on of wandless magic that saved his life, but that the rest of the family utterly missed. He's nowhere near squib level and will require extra tutelage, or he's liable to blow up half the school while casting _Alohamora_." 

Minerva's eyes widened but she nodded. "Of course, Severus, I'll see to it."

"I'm… I'm not a squib?" Neville asked, so soft and so broken.

It certainly broke Laurence's heart to hear it.

Minerva looked surprised again and Snape looked like he was ready to commit homicide. Laurence tightened his arms around his cousin, just short of painful. "No, sweetheart. Professor Snape knows what he's talking about."

"Go on, Mr. Longbottom," Minerva encouraged gently. "What else happened?"

Neville swallowed thickly. "I… The Remembrall that Gran gave me, it fell out of my pocket. Malfoy took it and wouldn't give it back. He flew on his broom and Harry went after him to get it back for me."

"Mr. Malfoy attempted to throw it at my office window," McGonagall added, motioning to it, "but Mr. Potter caught it in time."

Laurence glanced at the Remembrall on the desk. "That's no mean feat, Ha--Mr. Potter. It can't be bigger than a snitch."

McGonagall brightened, her eyes gleaming. "Yes, isn't that something."

Snape frowned at her. "Minerva."

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Don't you dare."

"Severus, really. It's very remarkable. Mr. Potter's first time flying and all."

Laurence was only beginning to learn of the rivalry-friendship between the two professors, but he was seeing where this was going. "Wait, Quidditch? Harry's _eleven years old!_ That we allow it at twelve is far too soon!" 

Snape folded his arms over his chest. "Nor does this qualify as a punishment." 

"But from Mr. Longbottom's own account, Mr. Potter stepped in merely to reclaim his property. The only one at fault here is Mr. Malfoy." 

The boy in question slumped further in his chair and grumbled quietly. 

"Yes, he is," Laurence agreed, "but Mr. Potter also should have alerted Madam Hooch to the problem instead of charging after Mr. Malfoy. They both could have been seriously injured." He paused, seeing the hurt in those bespectacled green eyes, and softened. "I appreciate you doing as I asked and watching out for Neville. You're a good friend. But next time, try to use your brain instead of just reacting." 

Snape was smirking at Minerva, who sighed. "Point taken. Detention for both--"

"Actually, as Neville's acting guardian, I'd be willing to let it go this once if Mr. Malfoy were to apologise to him," Laurence said. 

Draco sat up. "Really?"

Laurence nodded. "And, of course, if you both write me an essay about current Muggle transportation methods." 

Draco gaped while Harry looked decidedly perkier. "What?! I don't know anything about _Muggles,_ I'm--"

"About to cross a line," Snape warned. "That's what the Library's for, and we can arrange for you to borrow some of Professor Longbottom's books." He looked down at Neville. "Would an apology suffice, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville nodded shyly against Laurence's chest. 

"Very well. Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco sighed and got up, his usual bravado seeming to have left him as he reached out a hand to Neville. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset. I was just having a laugh."

"And it was stupid of you," Snape added.

"And it was stupid of me," Draco repeated dutifully, pouting more. 

Neville shyly shook Draco's hand. "Accepted," he said formally. 

For some reason, Neville willingly touching him seemed to brighten Draco's mood considerably, Laurence couldn't help but noticing. 

_'Pigtails?'_ he mouthed at Snape, who shrugged, looking at clueless as he felt. 

Snape turned back to Minerva. "We'll discuss the Quidditch later. With the Headmaster. If Potter even wishes to." 

" _He's eleven!_ " Laurence said again at the same time as Harry asked, "What's Quidditch?"

"How can you not know what _Quidditch_ is?" Draco sneered at Harry.

The dark-haired Gryffindor flinched visibly and glared at him. "I was raised by Muggles," he said softly.

"Enough," Minerva sighed. "Mr. Malfoy, you may return to the dungeons now. I suggest you get started on the essay. It will be due in--what, a week's time?" This was asked to Laurence. 

Laurence nodded. "Visit me after classes today, Mr. Malfoy, and we'll get you started." 

Draco pouted but nodded and slunk out of the office. 

Laurence stood, picking Neville up and keeping the eleven year old in his arms. "I'll take the boys back to Gryffindor, Minerva."

She nodded, smiling softly. "Thank you, Laurence."

He walked out, surprised when not only Harry followed him, but Snape as well. He glanced behind him, noticing how the tall man and small child were glaring at each other, and sighed heavily. 

"The Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry is highly irritating," he told Neville. "I'm glad you have some sense. Just remember that Gryffindors aren't always right and Slytherins aren't always wrong."

Neville nodded soberly. "Yes, Laurence. I mean, Professor."

"It's alright when we're not in class, Nev," Laurence assured, pressing his forehead fondly against his cousin's. 

Snape caught up to them and he wasn't sure, but he thought the man looked pleased by his words. "That was evenly handled, Professor Longbottom. You have… a natural ability to handle children." 

Laurence felt his face growing warm. "It's easy. Just remind yourself that they're only small people, with less life experience than most adults."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "That's a rather _unique_ way to put it."

"I know, you prefer simply _dunderheads_."

Smirking, Snape nodded his head in agreement. "As you say. But perhaps I'll try taking some notes from your behavior."

Laurence smiled softly. "I'd appreciate it. Especially with--" He glanced behind them at Potter pointedly, who followed and was obviously listening to them while pretending not to. 

Snape nodded, sighing. "I'll make an attempt." 

"Good man." He sat Neville down on the ground only when they reached the portrait guarding the Gryffindor dorms. "Here we are, boys. Go get started on your homework."

"You've also got a week for Professor Longbottom's essay too, Mr. Potter," Snape added, with only a faint smirk. "Remember that he said all manner of transportation."

Harry's eyes widened. "You're joking."

"I'm really not." Snape smirked wider when he looked at Laurence, motioning him back down the hall. "Shall we?"

Laurence rolled his eyes but he felt strangely fond, and Snape's words to Harry were far less angry, so it was an improvement. "Yes, let's. Be good, boys. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Laurence!" Neville called after him before he and Harry disappeared behind the portrait. 

Laurence sighed as they walked away, already missing the weight in his arms. Neville was perhaps getting too big to hold, but he couldn't contain himself. 

"What's wrong now?" Snape asked softly. "The situation is resolved, punishment doled out. It's not good to dwell on it."

"Not that, I just…" Laurence ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I want to protect Neville and I can't. I have to work." 

Snape's smirk softened a bit. "You sound like a parent. A good one."

Laurence felt his face grow warm again. "I do?"

"They're rare enough in this world, so it's worth noting."

Laurence smiled back shyly. "To be honest, I've… wanted my own children since I was still a kid myself. Seeing Neville again brought it all back."

Snape hummed thoughtfully. "Not unusual, considering your own childhood was less than pleasant."

"I was abused, you can say it," Laurence assured. 

Snape grimaced unhappily. "I only meant that you could have very easily decided to hate children. Instead, you want to make their lives better. It proves you've survived your past. It's commendable." 

Laurence licked his lips nervously, ignoring the way that Snape glanced down at his lips--very quickly, but obvious. "Speaking of… When we have more than a few free moments, we should discuss Malfoy and Potter. In private. If that sort of thing continues, it's going to cause a lot of problems in the future..."

Snape frowned but nodded. "I'm not sure when that will be."

Laurence shrugged. "Such is life at Hogwarts." 

"Indeed."


	3. A Labor of a Mountain Troll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is where many of the warnings in the tags come into play, just FYI. 
> 
> Also I should have tagged this as an anti-slow burn. Originally this was only going to be a lark and a one shot. I like how the universe has developed enough to leave it alone and not rewrite it all from scratch over one detail. And besides, sometimes people just know they like each other. It happens, kids.

3\. A Labor of a Mountain Troll

In October, Severus spent an evening with the Headmaster, getting an up to date account of the goings on with the Philosopher's Stone and what they knew about the thief-- _which was nothing_.

He still said nothing about his concerns with Quirrell, the sudden changes that had come over the man, but he doubted that Albus didn't also notice. The man acted the fool but he was far from one in reality. 

He was also, he admitted to himself grouchily, getting his ass handed to him in chess by the twinkle-eyed bastard.

"Moving onto more pleasant matters," Albus said, somehow twinkling even _more_. "Minerva tells me you've struck up a friendship with young Laurence."

Severus' eyes narrowed at the man over the chessboard, ignoring as his pieces yelled at him for his poor moves. He did not tell them his moves were just fine, but Albus was a tactical genius. "And?"

"It pleases me, Severus, that's all. You may not believe it but I want you to live your life." 

"He's ten years younger than me. And a former student."

"But still perfectly within acceptable realms," Albus assured.

"And probably straight. He's said he wants children."

Albus twinkled some more. "Severus, really. I've seen the way the boy looks at you. Surely you've noticed."

Severus manfully held in a blush. He was not blind, and as a former spy he was very good at picking up such small details. But in the months of getting to know the young professor, in watching him become more confident in his magic again, and feeling the blossoming friendship between them, he had stayed very firm in his denial. Until Albus had to say something. "Perhaps I have. What does it matter?"

"It matters, my boy. Why hesitate? If it's about children, there's always adoption, or certain potions which you can make quite easily…"

Severus glared at the man, who knew him better than anyone. Albus damn well knew what his hang ups regarding relationships were. For one thing, he didn't do affairs. Never had, even as a dumb teenager, which was what had lead him down such a bad road in the first place. 

At least falling for Dark Wizards that had gone insane was something he and Albus had in common. 

"It's not just children," Severus sighed, moving one of his last pawns. "Or a lack of interest. Somehow." 

He knew what he looked like. He'd taken after Eileen in the looks department, apart from the nose, which had always looked so much more austere on Tobias. Even when he was utterly and completely pissed drunk. 

"But I've nothing significant to offer him. He's had… a troubled past and he deserves so much more than…" _Me,_ he didn't say, but he knew Albus would know what he meant.

"Perhaps you should trust Laurence to make that decision." Albus moved his queen in an aggressive move, looking at him seriously. There was less twinkle when he was being sincere. 

"Perhaps." Severus wasn't so sure of that. He wanted to protect Laurence. 

At first glance, the young man had seemed boring, but in truth he had hidden depths. He was clever, and funny, and honestly cared about people without wanting anything in return. Severus had a type, he could admit that to himself. Laurence had been kind to him and freely given kindness was one of Severus' weaknesses. Always had been. But just because he was interested, didn't mean that anything should be done about it. 

Severus just didn't do relationships in general.

"Really, my boy, I just want you to find some happiness. It's been a long time since I've seen you this way. Not since…" 

Severus held up his hand in warning, forestalling him from saying Lily's name. Or Regulus' for that matter. He made his next move on the board, his pieces cheering as they successfully removed a piece of Albus' from the board. 

Severus gathered his thoughts before responding. "He doesn't remind me of her. Apart from the unwavering kindness."

"Perhaps kindness is what you need, my boy," Albus noted, twinkling again.

Severus made a face at him before moving on. "He's… remarkable. I know there's much he hasn't told me, but whatever it was, I know it haunts him. And before you ask, no, I won't use Leglimens on him to find out." More than he already had upon meeting him, anyway. It was a habit. "Whatever it is, it's not a risk to Hogwarts."

"Severus, have you so little faith in me?"

"You're a cunning, manipulative bastard," Snape grouched, but even he could admit his tone was subdued.

Albus laughed softly, but joyfully. "There've been many remarkable people that you've met. What makes Laurence special?"

"Many things." Severus paused, staring at the board, as he put his thoughts and observations into words. "Largely, that he can be so remarkable after everything that's been done to him. That it hasn't dimmed the goodness in him. He doesn't allow his past to rule him." 

And that innate kindness made Laurence look at him like Severus was _worth_ something. After everything he had done, all the damage and pain and death, it was humbling. 

"Speaking of the Longbottoms," he went on, referring to what he'd told Albus already about the abuse caused by Frank's relatives.

Albus nodded seriously. "Protective services are lacking in the wizarding world. I'm uncertain criminal charges could be brought against Augusta, even by myself. The courts may rule it out before it even goes to trial. She's highly respected."

"So?"

"So my first move may be to go to the papers. Ruin Augusta's reputation."

Severus had kept up with the papers, tabloid trash that they were, since Laurence mentioned the incident about Skeeter wanting information about Potter. He'd seen no such slander against the Longbottom matriarch. "Why haven't you?"

"Augusta has been a long time supporter of mine. I'm not yet sure it's wise to spurn her so thoroughly."

Severus glared. "So you'd let the younger Longbottom continue to suffer when he goes home over the summer?"

"His tutelage with Minerva is helping him improve. I'm hoping that will be enough to appease Augusta."

Severus stood and swiped their remaining pieces onto the floor, causing them to cry out in displeasure and call him some very imaginative names. "You bastard. This isn't the war anymore! It's over!"

Albus looked at him tiredly over the moon rims of his glasses. He suddenly looked his age. "Is it? Tell me, Severus, has your Mark been bothering you lately?"

_No,_ he wanted to say, but it would be a lie, and the gravity in Albus' expression held him back. It wasn't hurting, hadn't since that night ten years ago, but it was… itching. Which was bad enough, but that didn't make it a _portent_. 

Dread filled Severus, swirling alongside the usual guilt. What would he do if Voldemort returned? How would he keep Lily's son safe? What was he going to do about Augusta Longbottom if Albus refused to help, and how would he ever explain it to Laurence?

He needed time to think.

And vodka.

-

The next of the "Harry Potter Incidents" occurred on the night of the Halloween feast, which had been going so well. Laurence had just learned about Severus' weakness for cream cheese when Quirrell came rushing in, squealing at the top of his lungs about a troll in the dungeons. 

Then promptly fainted, causing the children to erupt in a panic.

Albus cast Sonorus on himself to raise his voice over the din, calling for them to remain calm so they could be escorted to safety and the adults could handle the troll. 

Laurence walked with the Gryffindors, holding Neville's hand, when he heard Severus running up to them from the direction of the dungeons, demanding, "Where's Potter?"

Laurence looked around himself, but he couldn't catch a glimpse of Harry's unruly head of hair. "Not sure."

"Minerva!" Snape raised his voice, calling up ahead where Minerva lead the front with Filius and Hooch. "Do you have Potter up there with you?"

She paused, and the lines of students paused with her. "No, Severus, why?" 

"Because _I don't see him!_ " Snape yelled back just before they heard a crash coming from the direction behind him. 

Laurence looked back at Snape, seeing his own fear mirrored in those dark eyes, and the man shot off the way they had come. 

"Neville, stay with the group!" he ordered as he took off after Severus. 

As they followed the ruckus, an orange tabby cat suddenly appeared, running beside their feet, before it transformed back into Minerva McGonagall. 

"If this is the work of the Weasley twins, they'll be expelled," Severus warned her. "I mean it this time!"

"Severus, not right now," she panted back.

He and Severus managed to outpace her, rushing into the ruined Girls' bathroom, their wands already out and casting simultaneously. 

" _Accio Harry!_ " Laurence cast, as Snape shouted his own spell, grief and rage clear in his voice. He was unfamiliar with the spell, but whatever it was, ripped the troll to pieces. Bits of troll gore covered them and walls before Snape also banished the mess.

Granger and Weasley screamed and rushed to McGonagall as she came in, clutching onto her robes. 

"A bit excessive, Severus," Minerva chided, catching her breath. 

"No, it wasn't." Snape turned to Harry, who was wrapped tight in Laurence's arms. "Potter, are you injured? Did it hurt you?"

Startled, eyes wide with fear--at either the troll or Severus' concern--Harry shook his head mutely.

"Thank the gods," Laurence breathed, hugging Harry close to him. He offered Severus a weak smile. "For a minute there, we were in a Tolkien novel."

Severus blinked at him before a soft laugh escaped him and he pocketed his wand, pulling his robes tight around him. "Filius doesn't fit Tolkien's ideal of elves at all."

Laurence couldn't help it--he laughed breathlessly as well.

"Snape--Professor--you just blew up a troll!" Weasley said, still holding onto Minerva's robes. "That was so cool!"

Severus raised an eyebrow haughtily. "I have many skills. Now, what in the _blazes_ were you three doing away from the group?!"

Laurence felt Harry give a full body flinch. "Severus."

The man looked at him and softened visibly. "You were supposed to stay with the group," he said, in a more moderate tone. 

"I'm sorry, Professor, it was my fault," Granger spoke up. "I thought I could take the troll on myself." He ducked her bushy head. "I was wrong."

Laurence glanced at Severus' plain look of suspicion and sighed. "Ms. Granger, I'm going to give you a word of advice from my own school days. Don't lie to Professor Snape. He can always tell when people lie."

The girl flushed and glanced up at the tall man guiltily.

The man in question sighed. "I imagine she went to the bathroom before the feast and hadn't returned yet by the time the troll made its way up here, and her friends were rushing to her aid. Am I right?"

Shyly, the girl nodded, giving Ron an apologetic look. 

Minerva sighed. "Well, for the show of bravery, I'm awarding the three of you five points each. For sheer dumb luck!" She turned and would have run straight into Quirrell rushing in, if not for her cat reflexes. "Quirinus, where have you been?"

"Uh. Oh, n-nowhere, Minerva, just trying to h-help find the troll." He wrinkled his nose. "Oh, nasty smell, t-that. Is it d-dead?" 

"Quite dead," Severus growled, putting an arm around Laurence--and by extension Harry--and escorting them out.

With a wide berth around Quirrell, Laurence couldn't help but notice.

"We should take Potter to Pomfrey, just in case," he said, steering them toward the Hospital Wing. 

"M'fine," Harry muttered into Laurence's shoulder. "Why do you care?"

"Because I do!" Snape shouted, causing the boy to flinch again. 

Laurence stepped back, holding the boy tight. " _Severus!_ " 

Severus' eyes widened, at either his tone or the action, and he reached out for them again. "No, I--dammit--I was just--"

"You were scared that Harry might be hurt--killed--and now you're reacting angrily," Laurence said calmly. 

Swallowing, the man nodded. He said nothing to confirm or deny it, but when Harry raised his head, Severus looked away down at the stone floor. 

Laurence softened and stepped back to Severus again, showing the man he was forgiven. "Harry, people can either be very brave, or very foolish, when they're frightened. Running off like that frightened us and Professor McGonagall. You should have _told us_ that Ms. Granger was in trouble."

Harry bit his lip but he nodded. "I'm sorry, Professor." 

"That's better." He gave Harry a comforting squeeze, smiling at how the boy simply relaxed in his arms. It felt like hugging Neville, only Harry was a lot smaller and bonier. As though he didn't eat much. "Let's have Poppy check you over, just to be on the safe side."

Thankfully, Poppy gave Harry a clean bill of health and a bit of Halloween chocolate to cheer him up. Then, frowning, she ordered Severus to put his leg up so she could get a better look at it.

Laurence gasped at the blood he hadn't noticed as Severus grouchily did as he was told, knowing better than to argue with the matron. "You didn't mention being hurt!"

Severus glanced at him like a guilty child. "The troll got passed me. That's why I ran back to you and the children, and noticed Potter and his friends were not with the group."

Laurence nodded but something about that explanation didn't seem quite right. He continued to hold Harry, who leaned against him tiredly, adrenaline having run its course in his young body. He cuddled the boy close, watching as Pomfrey healed Severus' pale leg good as new. 

Then, she handed Severus a chocolate too. "Eat it. Don't argue with me."

Severus sighed but he ate the bite of chocolate with a grimace. "Satisfied?" 

"Much as I ever am. Now go rest, all three of you."

"Yes, ma'am," Laurence agreed, carrying Harry and following Severus out of the hospital wing. 

They both took Harry to Gryffindor, where Neville, Granger, and Weasley were waiting for him, and then Severus walked Laurence back to his own rooms near the Ravenclaw dorms. 

He paused at his door, looking up at Severus' drawn, troubled features. He wasn't sure how he'd been unable to read the man as a teenager, when it seemed so plain to him now. He marvelled that it had only been a few months back, but he was already settling into this life, and the changes it had brought. 

He was almost happy. His therapist would probably cheer. 

"It's alright," Laurence assured gently. "You saved him. Harry's safe."

"It's not…" Severus shook his head, obviously trying to hold in more anger, and he succeeded. "It's not just Potter."

"But it's mostly him," Laurence said knowingly. "I don't know why, you don't need to tell me, but you've made yourself his champion. It's noble, Severus, you're a good person."

Severus gave him such a sad, hollow look, shaking his head again. "I treat the boy cruelly."

"You did. You're getting a lot better."

"I'm not a good person, Laurence. I can't… I'm not sure I can be who you deserve."

It was the first time either of them had spoken of what was going on between them. 

Laurence felt his face heating up. "I'm not sure I can be who you deserve either, Severus. You don't know everything about my past."

"If we're comparing past deeds, I assure you, yours will pale in comparison."

Laurence smiled sadly. "I already know you were a Death Eater."

"Still am, in some circles." Severus grimaced. "But it's more than that. None of which I will discuss here. However…" 

Laurence shushed him by reaching up, touching Severus' lips and making the Potions Master flinch in surprise. "How about we agree to take it one day at a time? See what happens from there. No pressure, no promises, just… for as long as we can stand each other." He smiled shyly. "I'm afraid I don't really do casual, though."

Dark eyes took on a strange look and the man stepped closer to him. "I wasn't asking for casual."

The kiss was soft, chaste, Laurence far too afraid to push for more, but it made him feel like he could fly without a broom. 

He smiled up at Severus' uncertain expression. "Not like a Tolkien book at all now."

Severus laughed softly, his relief and awe obvious. "Good. I can't sing worth a damn and I never liked anything after The Hobbit." 

Laurence shook his head, amused. "But you got my reference. That made me happy."

The Potions Master caressed his cheek with uncertain, ink-stained fingers. "It was my mother's favorite. One of the rare pleasures she had in her life."

The admission was said with reverence and felt like a gift. Laurence leaned into the hand on his cheek. "I'll ask you more about her someday."

"I'll tell you. Someday."

"We should sleep." 

"We should."

They finally pulled apart and Laurence slipped into his room with a willpower he hadn't known he possessed. 

Absurdly, he felt like writing his therapist back in London to let her know about that particular breakthrough. 

-

Once back in the safety in his rooms, in the dungeons, Severus saw the three new bottles of liquor sitting in front of the couch.

Instantly, he remembered how he'd reacted to Laurence and Potter, and began to angrily fling each bottle across the room, smashing every one of them. It was a waste, there was glass and liquid everywhere, but he was too angry to care. The anger, of course, was directed at neither of them, or even the bottles, but solely upon himself. And at Tobias Snape.

_I won't be you,_ he told the spectre of his father in his mind. _I won't be you, I won't be you, I won't be you._

He thought of his mother, Eileen, with her books. The only friends she had in her lonely life. She'd wanted a family in order to finally be less alone, but her handsome prince had ended up being a frog after all. 

He thought about how father's hate and bigotry had destroyed her by small degrees every day. Tobias hadn't killed her, largely that was the cancer, but the silence that Tobias had forced her into had kept her from seeking treatment. 

Then Severus thought of Lily and how his own anger and bigotry had pushed away the best friend he'd ever had. She'd been his only friend, the only bright spot in his universe. Perhaps it had been unfair of him to put her on such a pedestal. He'd turned her into an ideal in his mind, rather than a person. He'd only realized his mistake when it was too late to change anything. 

He'd been so stupid, thinking he could _make_ Lily love him, but he knew now he could no more control her heart than he could the sun setting. She hadn't been a Potion, she'd been _his friend_. 

And then Regulus, who he'd lost whilst he'd just been too busy to pay attention. 

Laurence deserved better. Potter deserved better too, as much as he still loathed the boy's father. 

If he treated her son like Tobias treated him, Lily would've never forgiven him, he knew. 

He couldn't change the past. Short of using a time turner illegally--which would make paradox theory kick in and Lily would die some other way. So there was no (logical) way for him to change the past. But he could make amends now. He could be better _now_. It was too late for Lily but life had somehow, bizarrely, afforded him a new opportunity.

If he didn't fuck it up.

Severus would start with no more drink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was Snape in love with Lily, Regulus, and ole Tommy boy, you might be asking me now? The answer is I'm leaving this open-ended, as was my original intent when I started. It's up to you to decide how to interpret it. My reasoning being that people are multifaceted, complicated, and usually have more than one person they loved their whole entire lives. Love itself can take many forms and don't necessarily always have to be romantic. *eyes certain authors* Laurence will eventually know, but he'd never break Snape's trust by telling the rest of us. =P


	4. Snake in the Grass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like most nerds, Laurence doesn't really sport.

4\. Snake in the Grass

Laurence knew an Incident was bound to happen that day, and that was why he took a book to the Quidditch field. He knew very well it was a Ravenclaw cliche, bringing a book to study, but he was going to be nervous enough as it was. If he was holding a book, then he was less likely to hex anyone because children were about to get grievously injured.

He had very strong feelings about Quidditch. He hadn't been very popular in school. There might have been a correlation. 

He walked with Neville, holding his cousin's hand, as he led the way up the the faculty seats. "Does anyone mind if Nev sits with us?" he asked cheerfully. 

No one objected, not even McGonagall, who had been the one to caution him about professionalism. It was Severus, though, that shifted over to make room for them. "Of course not," the Potions Master said firmly.

Laurence smiled and sat beside him, putting Neville on his other side. "Thank you, Severus."

Snape nodded, glancing down at the book and looking distinctly amused. "Really?"

Laurence rolled his eyes. "Yes, tease me all you like, but I'm nervous enough. It's Harry's first match."

Neville hugged Laurence's arm, smiling shyly. "It'll be alright, Professor, you'll see. Harry's really good at flying."

"He's _eleven_ ," Laurence said again, glaring mutinously at the back of Albus' head. 

Sadly, the Headmaster's pointy hat did not catch fire due to Laurence's rage. It was most upsetting.

Severus actually _chuckled_ , earning a stare from Neville. "And how are you today, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville stared a beat longer before smiling shyly. "I'm well, Professor. You?" he added, more than a little uncertain.

Severus inclined his head. "Well enough. Help me distract your cousin so he doesn't hex the Headmaster viciously if anything happens to Potter."

Neville nodded vigorously. 

"If anything happens to him, you're joining in," Laurence muttered darkly. 

"Nothing will happen, it's just Quidditch," Severus assured. 

"You're just trying to distract me with how silky your voice gets when you're pleased."

Severus chuckled again, both eyebrows going up. " _Silky?_ "

"I've always wondered why you don't commentate these things, but think of how many people would be distracted."

There was a bit of color on Severus' cheeks. "You overestimate my charms. Or lack thereof."

"Nonsense." 

On the Potions Master's other side, Minerva cleared her throat pointedly, and Laurence finally noticed how scandalized his little cousin looked. 

He gave Neville a comforting squeeze. "Sorry, Nev."

Neville flushed and shook his head. "How long has _that_ been going on?" he leaned up close to whisper. 

"Not long," Laurence answered honestly. 

He noticed movement behind him and glanced back, spotting Flitwick getting some Galleons from a perturbed Care of Magical Creatures professor. The Head of Ravenclaw winked at his former pupil. 

Laurence sighed. "I believe we won Filius money."

"I apparently need to hold out awhile on proposing so that I can win a similar pot for Minerva," Severus remarked. 

Laurence snorted back more laughter, watching as the players emerged and the crowd began to cheer. As soon as he spotted Harry Potter's figure amongst the Gryffindor team, he groaned and hid his face against his book.

"Oh gods, I can't do this, he's so _tiny_."

Severus gave his elbow a hesitant squeeze. "It'll be alright, Hooch is watching them." 

" _He's so tiny._ " 

The match was relatively normal, but Laurence put his nose in his book and resumed reading about the history of Muggle China. If he had to watch the match without some sort of buffer, it would be unbearable. 

"Ugh!" Neville's hold on his arm tightened. "Flint's cheating!"

"It's alright, dear, he looks like his face was beat in repeatedly by a bludger, and that's revenge enough," Laurence said mildly, not daring to look up still.

On his other side, Severus choked back laughter. 

"He's in your House, Severus," Laurence commented mildly.

"Yes, and you're not wrong."

Laurence pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. His comment had been mean, which he only made because he was feeling waspish, but this was probably why he and Professor Snape had been getting along so well. 

" _Laurence!_ " Neville cried, just as the crowd erupted in worried shouts.

Dread filling his gut, Laurence shut his book and looked up to the skies.

The sight that greeted him was pretty much what he expected--a scene directly out of his nightmares. There was Harry Potter, hanging on with a death grip on his brand new Nimbus 2000 as it jerked to and fro, out of control. 

"Someone's jinxed it!" Laurence cried, looking desperately at Snape, but the Potions Master was already on the case, lips moving as he attempted to counteract the jinx. 

He was so intently watching Harry, seconds from _Accio_ ing a broom to him so he could go get the boy, that he almost didn't notice the stray bludger heading straight for them. For Severus.

He tossed his book behind him and caught the bludger with a cushioning shield. It impacted his stomach, rather than Severus, and it hurt, but he would most likely only be bruised and not internally injured. 

When he looked up again, Harry had climbed back onto his broom and took off after the snitch with great intent. 

"Tell Hooch to pull him out of the game, someone is intentionally sabotaging the match and endangering his life!" Laurence shouted at Dumbledore.

"I'm sure it's nothing so serious," the Headmaster assured with a kind look. His eyes twinkled.

"Might be fine now," Severus muttered, looking behind them. 

Laurence followed his gaze to see Filius awkwardly patting at Quirrell's cheek, having apparently been knocked down when Laurence tossed his book. A red welt formed on Quirrell's cheek where the heavy tome had made impact.

He looked back at Severus in utter confusion but the man only shook his head, turning back to the game. 

"Are you alright?" the other professor asked after a moment. "That bludger…" 

"I'm fine," Laurence said, though he really wasn't, at least not emotionally. 

Though he could have retrieved his book, he was now caught up watching Harry battle with the brutal and bulky Marcus Flint for the snitch. Waiting for something else to go horribly wrong.

It was almost inevitable that Harry did catch it--by _accidentally swallowing it._ He spat it back up almost immediately but Severus had to physically restrain Laurence from rushing onto the field to check on the boy. 

-

Shortly before Christmas, Draco came to his office and bashfully handed back a textbook on Muggle technology that he'd borrowed. 

It was a heavy tome, a college level textbook, and the boy was eleven. And not Hermione Granger. Laurence frowned down at the little Slytherin in concern. "You finished it already?"

"No," Draco confessed, ducking his head, "but I'm going home for the holiday and my father… wouldn't approve." 

Laurence did not know Lucius Malfoy, but having studied Draco while getting to know him, delighted by the pure blood boy's curiosity about Muggles following his essay (which had been better than Harry's). He knew enough that Draco still loved his father, though, so he did not speak his thoughts. 

Instead, he knelt on the floor and hugged the boy, just as he would Neville and Harry. Draco stiffened in his arms briefly before, gradually, relaxing. "It'll be here waiting for you when you return. If you still want to read it." 

After a beat, as if he weren't used to being hugged, Draco clung to him. "I will!" he promised.

Laurence smiled gently and smoothed back Draco's hair. "Good lad."

Draco looked him in the eye as he pulled back. "Does this mean you like me? Like Potter?"

"Of course I like you, Draco."

"But I'm not… nice. Like Potter. People like him better."

_Neville liked him better,_ he did not say, but Laurence sensed it regardless. 

Laurence squeezed Draco's shoulders gently. "You can be nice, Draco. If you allow yourself to. You're like Severus that way. People annoy you because they seem stupid."

Draco bit his lip but he nodded. "I'll… think about it."

"Very diplomatic of you, Draco. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Professor."


	5. Festivities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still amazed ya'll are reading this.

5\. Festivities

Christmas had been relatively quiet in comparison to Halloween and the troll. Most of the children had gone home, safe with their families, apart from a few stragglers--Neville and Harry amongst them--whom the staff that remained kept watch of.

And, in Laurence's case, tried to give as happy a Christmas to as possible. 

He encouraged the staff to give the remaining students presents, insuring that each student would get something (even if it was only a book), and assisted with the decorations. He convinced Filius to dress as Santa for the Eve and the Head of Ravenclaw was possibly the smallest, but the jolliest, Father Christmas that he ever remembered seeing.

On the 27th, he received permission to take the children (with a few of the other professors, including Severus) out to Hogsmeade to allow them to spend any money they'd gotten for the Hols and treated them to dinner there. Severus didn't even complain when they began to play in the snow, as the first snowfall of the year trickled down.

The smallest of them, Neville and Harry, began to fall asleep on their feet on the return journey. Laurence picked Neville up to carry him the rest of the way, and was thrilled when Severus did the same with Harry. 

Harry, for his part, seemed too tired to be suspicious and put his arms around Severus. "'Mione thought you were the one that hexed my broom, during the match with Slytherin."

Severus frowned. "Did she."

"But I told her you wouldn't. Not after what you did to," words interrupted by a wide yawn from the boy, "the troll for me."

"Hm." Severus rubbed the boy's back hesitantly, glancing at Laurence. "Your assumption is correct. We're still not sure who hexed you. I was trying to stop it."

Laurence nodded encouragingly, watching the scene play out but not wanting to interfere. 

"Knew it." Harry yawned again before pressing his face into Severus' neck. 

Severus looked at Laurence again, obviously startled, but the younger man smiled at him happily. 

They took the boys straight up to their dorm, as well as a Seventh Year Gryffindor girl who went straight up to bed unassisted, quietly thanking them for the day. 

The two first years, however, were very much asleep, so Laurence and Severus had to tuck them into their beds themselves. 

Neville didn't stir at all, apparently so comfortable and happy, which warmed Laurence to the core. He tucked his little cousin in carefully and kissed his forehead.

Noticing that Severus was sitting on the edge of Harry's bed, he crept closer to see what was going on. 

Harry was awake and asking Severus questions. "But why were you so mean before?"

"I'm not a nice man," Severus told him simply.

"Bollocks."

"Language," Severus chided mildly, then sighed. "It's been something I've tried to… correct, this year. Call it a New Years Resolution if you wish."

"But it's not New Years yet."

"I'm proactive." Severus ran a hand through his long, messy hair, pushing it back. "Now, enough questions, it's time to sleep. I'm sure Laurence has another fun-filled day planned for tomorrow."

"You bet I do," Laurence said, closing the distance and pressing a kiss into Severus' messy hair. "You'll both love it."

"I'm sure." Severus bellied the sarcasm by tilting his head up to kiss Laurence softly. 

Laurence laughed softly and glanced down at Harry, but the boy's eyes were closed as if he'd already fallen back to sleep. "You're a natural, Severus," he whispered.

"Nonsense," the Slytherin whispered back without heat, taking hold of Laurence's hand and leading him from the boys' dorm room. "I'm afraid I volunteered for first rounds tonight. You should get some rest."

Laurence frowned up at him. "Self-sacrificing git. Of course I'll walk with you."

Severus sighed but he didn't seem overly put out. "Hardly the romantic evening you'd likely prefer."

"We did just fine on Christmas." 

"You and Filius fell asleep under the tree singing bawdy carols and I had to levitate you to bed." 

"Mm-hm, that part was lovely." Laurence didn't even regret his hangover, or trying Filius' hangover cure. That much.

"You drooled on me."

"And you don't hold it against me, that's sweet."

Severus huffed a laugh and kept hold of his hand, which Laurence approved of. 

They wandered the halls for a time, possibly long passed Severus' patrol had ended, talking of mostly inconsequential things. Laurence was fully aware they were both giving heavily abridged versions of their pasts, but that was fine. Severus knew he wasn't lying, just not telling him everything, so he hoped the man was returning the favor. 

Particularly when he learned that Severus had gotten his Potions Mastery in Ireland while helping an aged Master hunting fairies that had kidnapped children. They had wandered too close to a toadstool ring and the unthinkable had occurred. 

"The children were quite safe, but we had to make a bargain because the children had unknowingly eaten the offered food," Severus said. 

"Oh dear. What did you bargain with?"

"As it happened, Master Gaius was used to dealing with the fae folk, and he could evade falling into the trap of word play. He--" Severus stopped short, frowning.

"What is it?" Laurence asked, following his gaze to an open door.

"That door should not be open," Severus remarked lowly, pulling out his wand. "Stay back."

"Like Hades I am, this isn't a horror movie," Laurence quipped, pulling out his own wand and following. 

Severus' frown deepened but he did not argue, merely leading the way into the dark room.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to moonlight instead of torchlight, but eventually he caught sight of a small figure crouched in front of a large mirror. 

"Potter!" Severus hissed, tense, recognizing him before Laurence did. 

Harry stood and whirled to face them guiltily. "I'm sorry, I just--my parents-- _I can see my parents_ ," he said desperately, pointing at the mirror. 

"Oh sweetheart," Laurence breathed as he realized what this must be. Though he had never seen this item before, he remembered reading about it some years before, and knew it could not be a good thing. He walked across the room, taking Harry into his arms. "It's the Mirror of Erised, isn't it?"

"Yes," Severus ground out, though his ire seemed directed at the mirror and not the boy in question.

Laurence tightened his arms around young Potter. "It's dangerous. It's not really your parents. Only a dream," he assured, smoothing back the boy's messy hair.

Harry's lip quivered, his eyes filling with tears, glistening in the pale light. "But…" He looked at the mirror sadly. "I know, but… They look just like the picture Hagrid gave me…"

Severus' clothes rustling was the only warning they got before the tall man knelt down with them on the floor. "Potter. Harry. Your mother died to protect you. So that you could live. She would not want you to waste away here in this cold room for nothing but a dream."

Harry's eyes were downcast. "I don't know anything about her. Everyone always talks about my dad..." he whispered dishearteningly, far too broken for one so young. 

Severus hesitated visibly. "I knew her. Lily Evans. She was… She was my friend, long ago. Before you were born. My only real friend for a number of years."

"What…" Harry glanced at the mirror, obviously still seeing her there, before looking back at Snape, eyes now awed and filled with a fragile hope. "What was she like?"

The man sighed before answering, looking pained. "She was headstrong, like you. Kind. The kindest person I'd ever met. You have her eyes, the same shape and color. Brave, clever, studious, and she befriended people in all Houses. She had red hair, darker than a Weasley's, and always wore it far past her waist. She was constantly sitting on it on accident."

Harry giggled softly, sniffing and wiping at his nose with his sleeve. "Really?"

Severus nodded. "Yes, and I will tell you whatever else you wish to know, but you must promise us to never come looking for the mirror again. It will be moved in the morning to another location but you will not go looking for it. Is that clear, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded quickly. "I promise, sir."

"Good." Laurence picked him up, waiting for Severus to cover the mirror with a tarp and moved toward the door. He stepped on something soft and paused, looking down and seeing only stone. "What…?"

Severus reached down and picked up something, shaking it out, turning it this way and that until Laurence saw a flash of material.

"Invisibility Cloak," Severus said with a sigh. "Your father would not want you to lose this," he added mildly, handing it to Harry.

The boy clutched the invisible cloak like a security blanket. "You're not mad?"

"I am, but not at you. I'm mad at the Headmaster for giving it to you, as you're far too young and prone to mischief for such a thing."

Harry pouted. "I am not."

"You just snuck out of your room, after we put you to bed, to see a magical mirror that could kill you," Laurence pointed out.

The pout only continued. "Are you going to take my cloak away?"

"No," Severus sighed again. "Though I will if I find out you've been using it to sneak around and get into trouble. You're to use it only for your safety."

Harry nodded and Laurence cuddled him close. "Well, hopefully Severus and I will keep things from coming to that. Trust us to take care of it and try to be _just_ Harry."

"And not the Boy Who Lived?"

Laurence gave him a gentle squeeze. "Yes, that's the idea exactly."

What he didn't know then, but would learn afterwards, that fate had a funny way of playing out, regardless of whatever precautions they tried to take.


	6. Friendship and the Forbidden Forest

6\. Friendship and the Forbidden Forest

Neville was having trouble with a group of Slytherin upperclassman bullying him, so Harry had volunteered to escort him from the library to their dorms. They were just outside the library when a shouted, "Longbottom!" had them stopping. 

Harry whirled around and reached for his wand, but stopped short when he saw that Draco was carrying a nicely wrapped package in outrageously bright Christmas colors. 

Draco paused, catching his breath, motioning them to wait where they were.

Harry frowned at him. "Did you run all the way here from the Dungeons?"

Draco glared at him, coughed a bit, then handed the package over to Neville. "It's a late Christmas present," he said quickly, turning, and running back the way he'd come.

Harry frowned after his rival. "... Don't open that. It's probably jinxed." 

"He hasn't tried anything since the Remembrall incident," Neville said reasonably. "Which he apologized for."

"We should let Hermione take a look at it."

"If you're worried about hexes or curses, we should take it to Professor Snape."

Harry made a face and took hold of the box, shaking it gently. "It doesn't… feel evil."

Neville rolled his eyes, snatched it back, and despite Harry's protests, opened it right there on the spot. "Oh…" he breathed.

"What?" Harry asked nervously.

"It's a whole box of unopened Chocolate Frogs," Neville said, showing him the contents.

"Huh." He'd never seen so many of them, not even the candy seller on the train. 

"As peace offerings go, this isn't bad." Neville smiled at him. "We could share?"

"Best not tell Ron; if he finds out who gave them to you, he'll toss them in the fire."

"Mm-hm."

-

Severus had a lot of suspicions but he knew two things for certain: 

The first was that Quirinus Quirrell, gifted in research but not particularly anything else, had gone missing over the summer under mysterious reasons, and had come back with an obsession for garlic.

The second was that someone was trying to kill Harry Potter. _Again._

Bringing at least the latter fact up during staff meetings didn't seem to help. While the rest of the staff seemed to at least partly agree that something was amiss, most of them couldn't be convinced it wasn't just some sort of prank. Dumbledore would merely twinkle at him and offer some lemon drops. 

Laurence, at least, was on his side, though his suspicion was that Albus was finally going Dark and wanted the children to die for a lark.

For once, Severus couldn't be sure if he was joking or not. 

Whether the two facts together formed a whole or not, he was not certain, but refereeing the next Gryffindor Quidditch match (this time against Hufflepuff) seemed to at least put Laurence's mind at rest. 

Hooch hadn't exactly been easy to convince, however. 

"Are you seriously standing there and calling me incompetent, Severus?" she demanded, hands on her hips, after he'd gone over her head and straight to Minerva to get permission. "I'm the Quidditch expert around here! If I remember right, you _hate_ this sport."

"Because it's _not_ a sport," he seethed, "it's a convenient way for children to beat each other up!" That was probably Laurence's influence talking. "And yes, I'm calling you incompetent, because you didn't notice the illegal points that Flint got last match!" 

"He did not!"

" _Six times, Hooch!_ " 

"He's in _your house_ and it was just some harmless fun!" 

Snape sighed, feeling another headache forming. "I keep hearing that from people as though it's supposed to mean anything significant to the conversation."

'Harmless fun,' yes, like the Marauders attempting to kill him with their pet werewolf, or the Weasley twins maliciously tormenting the Slytherin underclassmen. At least the newest Weasley seemed too dim-witted to follow in the footsteps of the two monsters and Potter miraculously took after Lily and not his father. Apart from the interest in Quidditch, but Severus accepted there were worse hobbies for young boys to have.

Eventually Hooch stormed off and he was left in peace for a time, able to exchange his usual robes for something sturdier, and the necessary padding. 

He twisted around to reach for the helmet, but saw that it was gone--or at least, it had moved five feet to his right, where Laurence was offering it to him. 

"If you get hurt out there," the Ravenclaw said brusquely, "I'm coming out to kill you myself."

Severus smirked, accepting the helmet and strapping it on. "Bit counterproductive, that."

"I don't care," Laurence snapped, "because now I have to worry about _both of you!_ "

So much for putting his mind at rest. "... At least I'm much bigger than the rest of them?" 

Laurence gave an inarticulate scream, ran his hands through his hair, and stormed off, presumably to sit with Neville in the stands. 

Severus smiled after him, unable to help the fondness burning in his chest. It was nice to have someone care about him again. He schooled his features and grabbed a large enough broom amidst all the practice ones designed for children. 

His companion needn't have worried, however, as it ended up being a relatively quick match. The Gryffindors were too afraid to hurt the Hufflepuffs so they weren't aggressive enough, and the Hufflepuff players were able to sneak in a few goals because of it. All for not, however, when Harry caught the snitch in under ten minutes. 

Scanning the cheering crowd as he called the game, still a little reluctantly, for Gryffindor, he saw Laurence and Neville once again in the teacher's box, sitting between Minerva and Filius. 

The smelly bastard in the turban, however, was nowhere in sight. 

He could've sworn he'd seen Quirrell come with the other teachers to the Quidditch Pitch earlier, but he'd been keeping an eye on the game (well, mostly Potter), so the man must've slipped away during the match. 

Twisting around, he tried to catch sight of that hideous purple turban, and eventually did--Quirrell was heading into the Forbidden Forest.

Now, he understood perfectly well that Quirrell was smart enough to understand the theory of Defense in order to teach it, but there was a reason _Forbidden_ was _in the name_. Many reasons. With pointy teeth.

For a second, Severus pondered just letting the giant spiders have him, until his conscious (the bastard) kicked in and he flew off after the idiot.

Besides, how many other opportunities would he have to catch Quirrell on his own like this? The man had been very good at avoiding him thus far and it was high time he did something to rectify that.

Quirrell was almost embarrassingly easy to track down in the forest and the stuttering man denied any wrongdoing, just that he was looking for something. Something still felt very wrong about the man, though, and he was ready to march him to Dumbledore's office when he felt another presence that took far greater precedence than Quirrell. 

"Fine, do what you like," he snapped at the man before turning on his heel and leaving the forest.

On his way out, he snagged at the air at about hip level and grabbed hold of a skinny arm. He dragged Harry Potter, invisible underneath his cloak. 

Like his mother in kindness but having his father's levels of common sense, it seemed. 

"What did I tell you about using that damned thing?" he demanded in a hiss, casting a few dozen shield charms around them as he dragged Potter back to the castle.

"Ow, you're hurting me," the boy complained.

In his rush to get Harry away from the forest, and away from the suspicious Quirrell, he hadn't been paying much mind to his hold. 

Sighing, he bent down to pick the boy up instead, taking him back to the castle that way. "Better?"

Harry, part of his face revealed as the cloak shifted, nodded sheepishly. "You just took off."

"You thought I was up to some great evil, I suppose."

Harry pouted. "Or you were chasing some great evil." 

Severus shook his head. He didn't want to encourage these junior detective shenanigans that the boy was starting, but at least he was using his brain. "Why can't you just be obsessed about girls and Quidditch?"

Harry brightened instantly. "Did you see me catch the snitch?" 

"Yes, I did," he said mildly. "Next time, let the game play out a little bit first, hmm?"

"But it was _right there_."

He took the boy up to Gryffindor, so the boy could celebrate his victory with his friends, but made sure his lecture on how _Stalking is Bad_ was properly stern.

-

Later, Severus recounted the events to Laurence in the Potions Lab, whilst tutoring the younger man in revisiting rudimentary potions experiments. 

(While he hadn't wanted to tutor the young professor at the start of the year, things had certainly changed since then. And it was an excuse to touch his hands.

A bad one, he was sure Laurence wasn't buying it entirely.)

To be truthful, while Laurence occasionally forgot a few steps, overall he remembered his lessons remarkably well. All Severus was really doing was jogging his memory and his partner followed instructions better than most students.

This was probably why he remembered Laurence's school days being somewhat better than the typical dunderhead. 

"But Quirrell seems so… well, Quirrell." Laurence's eyes were focused on the potion. "I won't say harmless because no one is _really_ harmless. Even the kindest of people are capable of being dangerous." 

"True. You can add the second ingredient now."

Laurence did so, pinching it into the cauldron between two fingers, stirring with his other hand. "I heard that Hagrid had purchased a dragon's egg when he got… the guard dog? For Albus."

Severus hummed, watching Laurence's movements. "We only found out about it this evening when Charles Weasley came to pick it up. Other than the Romania reserve, there isn't a means to keep track of dragons, so Hagrid is not necessarily in trouble. This time. But it should have been sent to Romania before it hatched. Apparently, Mr. Potter and his cohorts witnessed the hatching."

Laurence groaned. "I do hope Neville wasn't there. He didn't say anything."

"Not that I've heard, but he would've had the sense to tell us directly. Instead, Ronald Weasley informed one of his brothers, Charles."

"Ah yes, _Charlie!_ " Laurence effected a feminine tone and batted his eyelashes before grimacing and resuming his work. "I remember him."

Severus smirked down at the little blond. "So you didn't have a crush on him?"

"Him? Gods above and below, no." Laurence tilted his head, smiling at him. "My tastes run along a different path. As should be apparent to you now."

Severus wasn't sure what to say to that, but his cheeks felt warm. "Then you were probably the only student who didn't."

"What about you?"

Severus grimaced himself. "What, attractive star Quidditch players? Merlin forbid."

"So what _is_ your type?"

"Isn't it a bit late to be asking that now? We're already…" He floundered, not sure what would be the right word to use. They spent most evenings together. They went to Hogsmeade, or worked on potions in the lab like tonight, or graded schoolwork together. But they'd yet to do much more than that. 

Laurence's smile returned. "What, dating? You can say we're dating."

Something inside Severus that he hadn't realized was tense suddenly relaxed. "Well, now that I have your expert opinion."

Laurence rolled his eyes, amused. "Hardly. I've had a few boyfriends before now and it was while I was living as a Muggle. It usually didn't go well."

"Because of the Muggle thing, or…?"

Laurance shrugged, his eyes staying on his potions. "Usually my own issues, to be honest."

Severus frowned, concerned, but he didn't push. Laurence would tell him in his own time, hopefully. "Sometimes things don't work out."

"And sometimes things happen as they should." Laurence paused to reach over and squeeze his arm through his long black sleeve. "I'm better. Stop looking like you want to murder small critters."

He manfully attempted to relax his features. "As you say. I've been… more selective myself, but not without my fair share of unrecommended relationships."

"Sorry."

"Hardly your fault." Severus slid his hand down the back of Laurence's sweater, the action still feeling awkward when he initiated touch. "I'm not sure I really have anything as simple as _a type,_ so I don't know what answer to give you."

"So you like who you like. I can deal with that." Laurence smiled teasingly. "I like 'em tall and dark and someone who would probably give my Gran a heart attack."

Severus snorted. "One would hope." He paused, realizing how that sounded, but Laurence was already giggling. 

"There's most likely a simpler solution."

"We could try blackmail." Severus shrugged, feeling helpless, because he wanted Neville out of Augusta Longbottom's custody as much as his partner did. "There isn't much by way of child services in the Ministry but creating a scandal in order to force the Ministry's hand could still work."

" _If_ we wanted to go behind the Headmaster's back."

"Yes, there's that to consider as well."


	7. In the Dark of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... enjoy making Quirrell!Voldemort a lot worse than in canon.

7\. In the Dark of the Night

Some weeks after the incident with Norbert, they were able to arrange a proper detention for four students: Potter and Granger, for being caught out of bed trying to sneak the baby dragon to a waiting Charlie Weasely, likely the only reason Hagrid even still had a job since they could take the blame. 

Then Neville and Draco, who had also been caught sneaking out, though they were not telling anyone why. 

In truth, Draco had asked to talk to Neville alone, but he'd never found out why before Filch had caught them. So there wasn't really much _to_ tell the adults; not that they were really accepting of that. 

As Snape and Laurence had a message to deliver for Dumbledore to the tribe of centaurs that lived in the Forbidden Forest, it was decided that Hagrid and the students would accompany them.

Snape and Laurence had a few unkind things to say about that, but Neville had the feeling that it was an order, and there was nothing they could do about it. 

Neville was nervous about entering the forest, but not as frightened as he could have been--he knew Snape and Laurence would protect them. Hagrid and his dog, Fang, were pretty formidable looking too, despite the fact that they were both cuddly teddy bears once you got to know them. 

Furthermore, he'd never seen a centaur before, apart from textbooks, and he was truly interested in meeting one. 

"You mustn't say anything rude," Neville whispered to Draco as they entered the forest, splitting off from Harry, Hagrid, and Hermione to take the path that would lead further into the forest than they were going. "Centaurs are supposed to be a very proud and noble species."

Draco sniffed and raised his chin. "I know how to be polite, Neville."

The blond was also calling him by his first name, rather frequently, and Neville wasn't sure what to do about that other than to call Draco by his given name in return. 

Laurence, walking between them and holding each of their hands as Snape took point, smiled at them each in turn. "Severus is actually doing most of the talking, so we'll all be very polite and not say much. It's true, Nev, but they're not considered to even be _sentient_ by most wizards, and they've been treated poorly because of it."

"Rather ironic," Draco muttered, "considering how Muggles treated _us_ during the witch hunts."

"Yes. Humans, as a species, make incredibly poor choices when we're in large numbers. I've come across it quite frequently in my research. Wizard and Muggle alike, no one is immune."

"And those that do not learn from their past, are doomed to repeat it," Snape said darkly. "So you two, do your best not to repeat our mistakes." It was almost a threat.

"Yes, sir," Neville and Draco intoned dutifully. They knew better than to try arguing with Snape. 

They walked along the path, never straying as Hagrid had warned them against, with Fang trailing behind them to guard their rear. 

After a time, Snape halted their progress, looking around the dark forest in the light of the lantern he held. "We should be near their camp now and I feel something watching us. Stay close."

It was Draco who saw it first, and he screamed in fright as Fang began to bark and growl. "Over there, over there!" the boy cried, pointing off the track and clutching onto Laurence's pant leg. 

Neville gasped as he saw the creature. It was pale and naked, hunched over the a mound that the boy eventually recognized was a unicorn. It's once beautiful golden mane was drenched in blood as the hideous creature tore open an artery, slurping loudly on blood and tendons. 

Then it looked up at them, making a semblance of a smile with crooked, sharp teeth, with eyes that gleamed red in Snape's lantern. 

"Sssssseverussssss," it hissed, crawling over the carcass of the dead unicorn with oddly bent limbs.

Neville realized it was because all of its limbs were bent the wrong way, as if the thing's head was facing one way, and the rest of its body the other. He screamed with Draco this time. 

"Give ussss the boy, Sssseverussss, hissss fate is to die!"

And if Neville weren't out of his mind with fear, he would've sworn those red eyes were focused on _him_. 

"Run!" Snape barked, but for once, he didn't sound angry; the Potions Master was clearly _frightened_. "Take the children back to the castle, find Potter if you can, _just go!_ " 

Laurence gathered them up in his arms but they didn't make it far, as the forest suddenly erupted with the sound of thunderous hooves across the forest floor. As though hundreds of horses were making a mad dash toward them.

The creature looked around, suddenly afraid, and fled into the darkness as the centaurs appeared. 

They were both beautiful and frightening, their eyes glittering in the moonlight, long manes wild and untouched by combs. They surrounded the humans and nervously barking dog, coming around each tree and knotted root. 

"Hush now," one of them, it's human half muscular, with flowing blond hair, and very male, ordered Fang gently. The dog went silent and he approached their group. Even in the dark, he seemed to have kind eyes. "I believe you are the envoys from the wizard leader, Bumblebee?"

"Dumbledore, yes." Snape pointed after the direction the creature had gone. "How long has _that_ been roaming here? Our groundskeeper said nothing of it."

"The giant _knows_ nothing of it," said the centaur. "We've hunted it, every night it has appeared here, just before the days that mark the return of your younglings."

"Just before term started?" Laurence asked, sharing a look with Severus. 

"It does not appear every night, but when it does, it goes after a unicorn, sucking out blood and organs." The centaur frowned at Snape. "It flees in the direction of your castle."

On the other side of his cousin, Neville heard Draco whimper. 

Snape bowed shortly, but respectfully, to the centaur. "Then we will search for the creature on our end."

The centaur returned the bow, long hair moving over one shoulder. "This is what we wished to convey to your leader. Have care. Creatures such as these often go after the younglings and your most beloved mates first, such as these."

"Mates?" Laurence echoed, sounding confused.

"Yes; you are quite beautiful, and must be very beloved among your clan." The centaur stepped forward, hooves moving at an elegant trott, and he stooped down to kiss Laurence's hand gentilly. "I am known as Firenze. Call upon me when you have a need of our help again, mate of the great warrior." 

" _Great warrior?_ " Snape growled in a strangled voice, almost sputtering.

Neville wasn't sure, but he thought Snape may not like Firenze's behavior toward Laurence. 

"Yes, for only a great warrior would stand so bravely before such an evil creature, despite his fear." Firenze bowed to Snape again. "Such as in the legends of old. In another time, our kind would have taken you into tutelage."

Snape still didn't seem pleased by these developments but he returned the bow. 

Firenze and a smaller group of centaurs escorted them out of the forest, where they met up with Harry and the others, who appeared to have also been escorted. 

Firenze stepped up to Hagrid. "You should not return to the Forest without word from us, Gentle One. It's no longer safe even for you."

"Aye, gathered that meself from yer friends," Hagrid responded, scratching at his scraggly beard worriedly. "Take care of yerself, F'renze."

"You as well, my friend. Mars shines brightly above us tonight." 

Firenze turned and ran back into the forest with the other centaurs, the sound of their hooves slowly disappearing into the distance. 

Laurence stooped to pick Neville up, holding him tight, and he really had no complaint about it, clinging to his cousin just as tightly. 

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I've had enough of CS Lewis tonight," Laurence attempted to joke. 

Snape snorted. "It's worse. The centaur just compared me to old Greek heroes. Let's get inside before I'm tasked into going down to Hades." 

"Or before Harry has to wrestle snakes."

Snape frowned down at Harry, but surprised Neville intensely by reaching down to take hold of Harry's hand as they walked back to the castle. "He would, wouldn't he."

"I wouldn't wrestle snakes!" Harry complained. "I actually like snakes. I met a very polite python at the zoo last year. What happened anyway?"

Hermione pushed her hair away from her face. "Yes, the centaurs said you'd been attacked? Are you hurt?"

"Unscathed, Ms. Granger. This time." Snape finally put his wand away, sliding it under his sleeve with one hand, seemingly unwilling to let go of Harry. "I hope you'll all consider the possible ramifications of going out of your dorms at night from now on."

Neville exchanged a look with Draco, figuring the blond noticed it too--the adults did not tell Harry and Hermione about the creature they had seen. Or that it might be roaming the halls at night.

Neville certainly didn't plan to go sneaking out again anytime soon.

-

He met up with Draco the next day, in a quiet corner of the library where they were unlikely to attract attention, and pulled out their books to study. 

Quietly, he asked Draco if he thought they should tell the others, and Draco thought for a minute before shaking his head. 

"No, Potter would probably go out to hunt it down, and then it would somehow be _my fault_ ," the Slytherin grouched.

Neville nodded, tracing the aged leather on the book he'd borrowed. "It said… for Snape to give it a 'boy.' It was looking at me."

Draco, however, scoffed. "Nonsense. Knowing the way this year has been, it probably just meant Potter."

"Not sure that makes me feel better."

"It makes _me_ feel better. I'd rather not think about that-- _that_ _thing_ being fixated on you, Longbottom."

Neville reached over and touched Draco's hand shyly. "It'll be alright. Surely we wouldn't be allowed to stay in school if something were really roaming the halls at night." 

Draco nodded and relaxed, sagging down in his seat. "Perhaps you're right."

"You'll ruin your posture doing that," Neville teased.

Draco stuck his tongue out at him and picked up his book on aeroplanes. Neville, knowing that Draco was not actually capable of taking Laurence's class yet, assumed he'd already finished studying for the exams and asked if he could help him, too.


	8. Orpheus and Eurydice in the Underworld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be no snake tiddies in my universe.

8\. Orpheus and Eurydice in the Underworld

It was quite late when Severus was woken to a patronus nuzzling him. 

The wispy creation had taken the shape of a swan, which perched large and terrifying on the edge of his bed. 

His first immediate thought was of certain thunder god associations and truly hated himself for reading that mythology text before bed. It had been a gift from Minerva some time ago and he was just getting around to reading it. 

His second thought was that of course Laurence's Patronus was a swan. It too looked entirely harmless, but in actuality was not.

When it spoke, it was Laurence's familiar voice, harried and frightened. 

"Severus, come to Minerva's office quickly. I'm afraid Harry's done something rather rash again."

He was up and out of bed before the message even finished, pulling on his robes and boots as he ran for the door. If any of the students had seen him, they would have laughed, buttons not done up properly and hair even messier than usual, but he wouldn't have given a damn in that moment even to hex them.

McGonagall's office door was already open when he came running inside, barely stopping short of slamming into the couch that Laurence, with Neville in his lap, was occupying. 

"I tried to stop them, sir, I'm sorry!" Neville cried, tears in his big brown eyes. 

Dread filled him, making his body grow cold. Severus glanced between Laurence and Minerva. "They've discovered where the stone is hidden?"

"It seems that way," Minerva said, rising. "Mr. Longbottom, wait here for us to return, and allow no one into this office unless one of us is with them. Understood?" 

Neville gulped and nodded thickly, allowing Laurence up very reluctantly. "Yes, Professor." 

Laurence dropped a kiss on his forehead and Minerva closed her door as they left, locking charms in place to keep Neville safe. 

Severus was very tempted to do the same to Potter, when they found him. _If_ they found him.

They rushed to the first door, Severus being filled in on what had transpired in the Gryffindor dorm. He felt surprisingly proud of Neville for having tried to do sensible thing and stop the other three. He also remembered Sirius Black and felt angrier. 

Behind the first door was Hagrid's three-headed dog, named Fluffy, the first obstacle they had created. Though the best was already quite large, according to Hagrid's research, Fluffy's breed tended to get much larger as it grew. The intention was to send it back to specialists in Greece once this all blew over...

He heard the music and cursed quietly, earning a " _Shh!_ " from Minerva.

A harp was lying nearby, no longer playing music, but a flute had been spelled to do so, and it was still going above them. 

"Like Orpheus," Laurence whispered. "Clever."

"It's not a big secret," Snape said after they were passed the slumbering dog. "There's more truth to old myths than people like to admit."

"Of course. Why do you think I pray to the old gods?" Laurence asked archly. "What's after this, the Fields of Punishment?"

Minerva tossed a pointed glare at Severus. "Close enough."

"Chess is not that hard, Minerva."

"Yes, it is."

He rolled his eyes. "Besides, that's not the next one, it's--"

Laurence _screeched_ as he was grabbed by the ankles and dragged passed them into the darkness. 

And like Orpheus before him, Snape rushed headlong into the darkness after the one he loved. 

"Devil's Snare!" he shouted, after casting _Lumos_ , Minerva doing the same behind him. "Laurence, it hates the light!" 

Laurence repeated the charm--from somewhere above him--and Severus quickly cast a featherlight charm to soften his fall as the vines abruptly dropped him. 

"Ugh." Laurence rubbed his ankles before standing. "Well that was unpleasant. No more tentacles in my Greek legends from now on, yes?"

"It seems agitated, and not just from our light," Minerva said as they made their way through the Devil's Snare, the vines parting for them. "The children must have come this way."

"And Quirrell," Severus said.

"Did Quirinus come after the children?" Minerva demanded.

"Forgive me, let me rephrase. The _children_ were chasingQuirrell. Or what's left of him, at any rate."

"Oh bleeding Merlin--you can't mean that--the creature in the forest--that _Quirrell_ is somehow the thing you described?!" she sputtered, flabbergasted. 

"He hasn't always worn that soiled turban," Severus pointed out reasonably. "Nor has he always smelled of garlic. Likely he was covering up the smell. You did not see what the thing looked like in the forest, Minerva. It was rotting, twisted."

"Oh gods," Laurence whispered. "And we allowed him around the children all year--he could've--"

He reached out for the younger man's free hand. "I spoke of my suspicions to Albus but I had no proof. Nor did I realize it had gone this far until tonight. But the harp belonged to Quirrell. It's been in the Defense classroom most of term."

Minerva cursed. " _He planned this the entire time?!_ I'll have that bastard's _head!_ " 

Severus was reminded again why he never, ever got between Minerva and her Gryffindors. 

Next was Flitwick's contribution to their little enterprise--the key room. The wings on the correct key looked quite abused by now, having been caught twice, and it squeaked tiredly when Severus removed the enchantment to catch it. 

The human chess board had been Albus' idea, though he'd had Minerva assist in its design, as she was the most clever with Transfiguration. 

The chess board was starting to move itself back into position in order to accommodate the new players, but Minerva disenchanted the board and they stopped moving.

"Oh fuck me," said a familiar voice amidst the tall pieces.

"Weasley!" Minerva darted forward and the two men followed quick on her heels. 

Ron Weasely was sitting where he had fallen, his arm obviously broken and hanging in a bad way that made even Severus wince in sympathy.

"I need to get him to safety," Minerva said, conjuring the boy a stretcher. "Will you two be alright?"

Laurence smiled thinly, smoothing down Ron's sweaty hair almost out of instinct it seemed. "No better time to work on our teamwork than the present, I suppose."

Severus nodded. "Go. We'll get Potter and Granger."

"Wait!" Ronald cried, looking at the Potions Master through pain-glazed eyes. "Hermione convinced Harry that it was _you_ who was after the stone! Who the bloody hell are they chasing?!"

Severus exchanged a dark look with the other adults. "We need to move quickly." 

They left Weasley in Minerva's care, running to the next trial. It was a riddle of Severus' design, though he wasn't surprised that Granger had solved it. What did surprise him was the sleeping spell she'd been placed under. Otherwise, she was unharmed.

To keep her out of harm's way? "Damn it, Potter." He removed his cloak and placed it over the girl's form. "There's shield and disillusionment charms sewn into the threads; this will offer her some protection," he told Laurence. "Let's hurry."

Laurence nodded and they hurried through the last stretch of darkness, coming to a large room lit by torches, with the Mirror of Erised in the center. 

Before it stood Quirrell--or what was left of him. But it was not his voice, or his mouth, that was speaking.

_It was the thing_ _on the back of his head._

"Come out, Harry Potter… Do not think to trick me…" 

Severus moved in front of Laurence protectively and pointed his wand at the awkwardly backwards moving figure. 

The face that had been haunting his memory since the night in the forest, turned and smirked at him, red eyes gleaming in the torchlight. The same red eyes he had not seen in ten years. 

_And below even the lands of Hades' realm was the hell known as Tartarus, where the Titans were banished when Mighty Zeus took dominion over Olympus. It is said that Chronus, the greatest Titan and Zeus' father, made himself king there..._

"Ah, Severus! So good of you to join us. My _loyal_ servant." Voldemort chuckled and wheezed. It was probably a painful existence, living on the back of someone's head. "I'll forgive you for not giving me Longbottom, if you help me draw out Potter. The boy's trying to be clever."

Severus sensed Potter's magic nearby, a bright spark like a beacon in the dark, but he couldn't see him. He needed to stall for time. 

"Forgive me, Master. Tell me what happened and I will assist in retrieving the boy."

"Tsk tsk, Severus." Voldemort wagged one of Quirrell's fingers, a surprisingly fluid gesture considering he had twisted the man's poor body backwards. Many of his bones were obviously broken and bleeding just so he could stand straight, unlike his awkward crawl in the forest. "You've been trying to stop me all year. I won't trust you so easily as that."

"I did not know it was you, Master."

The crazed dark wizard laughed, more joints cracking as he moved. "Oh, you really didn't, did you. How foolish you must feel, knowing that I'm still cleverer than you are." Voldemort's face lit up. "Ah, and who's this?"

Severus had been hoping that Laurence would leave, but he realized his mistake--not only had the Ravenclaw been far too loyal to leave him alone to the Dark Lord's devices, but Laurence would not abandon one of the children to a mysterious fate. 

The blond fought but he was dragged over to Voldemort's mangled form, glaring as his face was pawed at. 

Severus was shaking. "He has nothing to do with this, my lord. Let him go."

"You know, I've had the pleasure of killing someone you loved once already." Mangled hands wrapped around Laurence's neck, but Voldemort was looking at Severus as he spoke. "Perhaps I'll go for two."

"Stop!" Severus screamed, realizing a beat later that someone had screamed with him. Potter's cry had echoed in the room but he was still nowhere in sight.

Voldemort chuckled. "I have to say, Severus, this one is much prettier than your Lily Evans. Your standards have certainly gone up."

Laurence attempted to move, but he couldn't do much more than gag, and Severus realized--the bastard had used a full body bind on him, wordless, and intended to kill him while he couldn't otherwise move his body. His muscles strained uselessly against the spell, the only part of him able to move unhindered were his brown eyes. 

Harry stepped out of the mirror, and in his hand was the gleaming Philosopher's Stone. "Please, don't hurt them, just take it!"

The Dark Lord's shade allowed Laurence, gagging, to drop to the floor as he turned to the boy, his entire focus only on him--and the stone. "Harry, my sweet boy, give it to me." 

" _Sectumsempra!_ " Snape spat as he cursed Voldemort, pouring all his magic into it, and all the other curses that he threw at the monster. 

He did not let up, did not dare to, casting one after the other in quick succession. All of his hate, rage, and grief from the past ten years, and more, went into everything he cast. Words and intent flowed from him, illumining the room with blinding sparks of magic. 

Harry jumped out of the way, throwing himself over Laurence's immobile body. He cast an _Expelliarmus_ when the creature attempted to attack Severus in return. 

In a blinding flash, Quirrell's wand went flying across the floor and the shade did not have time to react, thrown by both the boy's assault and his former protege's. 

Severus did not stop. Even as it drained his magic, he felt himself tiring, and he did not care. This was as close as he would ever get now to _revenge_. He poured every last bit of his magic into destroying the shade.

On Lily's murderer, on the man who had stolen his life away. Who had hurt Laurence, and tried to hurt Harry, who could have hurt Neville and Minerva and the rest of the school if this creature had gotten his way. 

He wouldn't allow that to happen.

In the end, when the pile of bones and blood that had once been Quirrell stopped screaming, Severus cast the strongest fire spell he knew to consume what was left. He didn't even spare a moment to mourn his former colleague before he turned back to see Laurence and Harry. 

They were sitting on the floor in front of the mirror, the boy in the Muggle Studies Professor's lap. Freed, Laurence rocked Harry gently as they clung to each other. The binding spell was gone the moment the shade had perished.

His relief, as well as his tiredness, only left him with enough energy to limp over to them and fall to his knees, wrapping his arm securely around Laurence's back. Laurence's powerful shield charm dissolved to let him in.

"Is it…?" Laurence asked softly, lifting his face from where it had been pressed against Harry's unruly hair. 

Severus nodded in answer, smoothing back Laurence's own hair and casting a healing spell on the poor man's larynx. His vision got momentarily blurry from that one, quite spent now. "It's dead."

"I'm sorry," Harry whimpered, looking at him with sorrowful green eyes that he would never be angry at anymore. He was crying, his glasses askew and horribly smudged. "Hermione was convinced it was you, but it was just what Quirrell--he-- _that thing_ wanted us to think…"

Severus dug in his inner robes for a handkerchief, using it first to gently wipe at Harry's face, then to clean his glasses. "The fault is mine. I knew Quirrell was up to something but I didn't know what. I should've acted sooner."

"You're not mad?" Harry asked shakily, allowing the professor to put the glasses back on over his eyes. 

"No," Severus said. In truth, he'd wanted to be mad before, but now that his magic was so thoroughly drained, and the shade was more than dead, he felt strangely cathartic. 

"You drained your magic," Laurence noted, leaning his head on Snape's shoulder. 

"Temporarily. Rest and sleep will restore me." He rubbed Laurence's back, knowing he needed to get them out of here, but he didn't have the strength to do it quite yet.

He shifted, getting more comfortable on the stone floor, and getting a better hold on the other two. "You can ask about it. If you want."

"I already knew you were a Death Eater, Severus," Laurence assured. "The rest of it you can tell me when you're ready. There are things about me you don't know yet either, remember?"

The older man smiled tiredly, pressing a grateful kiss to Laurence's forehead. He was not sure how he got so lucky in meeting Laurence, in having the sense to give the younger man a chance to crack the cold shell around his heart, but he was grateful to the events that had allowed it. "Very well."

His eyes fluttered open, and he hadn't meant to look in the Mirror of Erised, but he caught their reflections and was surprised by what he saw. 

There was Lily, a young woman in her early twenties, as she had been upon her death. She smiled at him, pride and happiness shining on her face, as he hadn't seen since they were far younger than she looked in the mirror. 

Lily winked at him, then her visage was gone.

Severus frowned at the mirror before he realized what it meant.

The Mirror of Erised could no longer show him his heart's desire, or try to tempt him with something he did not have. 


	9. Bat Out of Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so late and I have no excuse. 
> 
> I have reasons--shortly after my last update, my depression increased. I'm hoping that my upcoming job, getting away from a lot of the things triggering my anxiety, will make things easier. 
> 
> If anyone is still reading, thank you so much for your patience. Do let me know if you'd like to see the sequel as well! I've got it half written and it'll be twice as long as this was.

9\. Bat Out of Hell

The hospital wing was thoroughly invaded by the time all of them were rescued and bustled into it. Albus had returned to the castle from his meeting with Fudge, so he was quite eager to hear Severus' side of things as Poppy attempted to work over all her patients. Severus was quite happy to hand over the Stone to the Headmaster.

Ronald's arm had been healed and he was being teased by the three other Weasleys currently in school. In his own bed, Potter was scolded by Granger, who had been awakened, and Malfoy, who had found out that something had happened and was angry at him for upsetting Neville. This didn't last too long as Potter, still quite emotional from his ordeal, burst into more crying.

Severus had the distinct feeling that, like his own cathartic state just post the rage and killing his foe, it was all the emotions that young Potter had spent up spilling forth. The boy would most likely be back to himself after. 

Poppy had to restrain Laurence in his bed when he tried to go over to Harry, ending up comforting the boy herself. 

Neville was in bed with Laurence, tucked against his cousin's side and listening with wide eyes to all the details about what had happened. Safe and sound. It was a reassuring sight to Severus, seeing the cousins together and alive. He had to pull his eyes away to keep from staring too long.

Eventually, Poppy seemed to have enough of all the ruckus in her domain and told them visiting hours were over, so the stragglers would need to leave.

"But Poppy, surely you don't mean me?" Albus asked, twinkling at her.

Poppy seemed to puff up in anger. "You? You allowed all these to happen in the first place! Out, out with you!" 

Bemused, the Headmaster allowed the mediwitch to shoo him out with everyone else. Poppy dimmed the lights, told her charges to rest, and went into her office. 

"Well that's just _great_ ," Weasley groused from his bed across the infirmary. 

"Sleep, Weasley," Severus ordered, knowing perfectly well he could not sound intimidating, given how tired he was. 

For his part, Weasley sighed and thankfully went silent. 

"It does feel odd," Laurence murmured quietly. "Given how much we've just gone through tonight and now… we're here and everyone's alright. Apart from poor Quirrell. Though I suppose the real Quirrell died over the summer when he somehow found a remnant of You-Know-Who."

Severus frowned. There was still much more about the puzzle he had to figure out. He hoped a thorough investigation of Quirrell's belongings would reveal something that he was missing. "Indeed."

A small shaped crawled out from under Laurence's bed but Severus didn't reach for his wand, allowing Neville to crawl back into bed with his cousin. He'd seen the boy sneak under there earlier when Poppy hadn't been paying attention.

Watching them curl around each other in the hospital bed beside his own, Severus was finally able to let go of his alertness, and to get the rest he sorely needed. 

-

The rest of term passed in a frenzy. Neville could tell that Laurence was stressed with doing the finals for five different grades for the first time, but his kindness never wavered. He even took the time to give Malfoy his own pop quiz, making sure that the boy was awarded House Points accordingly when he passed.

As for himself, Neville expected his scores to fall in line more with Harry and Ron's, and was surprised to see he had a marked improvement in most of his classes. Nothing quite as good as Herbology, and Potions was still the lowest, but Charms and Transfiguration had come way up since his last tests.

Severus had asked to see their scores, frowning down at the numbers. But unlike the beginning of the year, when he would've yelled, he handed the sheets back to Neville and Harry, telling them, "We'll be working on this next year."

Neville swallowed thickly. It was better than yelling, but he could still tell the man was disappointed. 

Snape cleared his throat. "Don't look so down, Mr. Longbottom. You've done very well, considering the craziness that's gone on this year. You too, Potter."

He left, robes billowing, and Neville exchanged a hopeful look with Harry, feeling a bit better.

Perhaps next year wouldn't be as difficult, Neville hoped.

The overall scores for Slytherin and Gryffindor were quite close at the end of the year. Marcus Flint's cheating during the Quidditch matches was brought to light (mostly, Neville suspected, because no matter how much Severus liked to win, he also abhorred cheating), so Slytherin's points had taken a heavy hit and that's what had kept them from pulling ahead. 

Between Harry and his friends both losing points and gaining points for their adventures, they ended up about even, but what pulled them ahead was Neville getting extra points for his bravery in standing up to his friends and being the most improved in grades among all the other First Years. 

Neville was hoisted up with Harry by one of the Weasley twins--he wasn't sure which was which--as the Hall cheered. He realized, for the first time, that this was what happiness without reservations could feel like. 

-

In the end, Laurence decided that the best way to approach communicating with Augusta was to be straightforward. He couldn't try to trick her, because she'd be able to see through it, and threatening would most likely just make her dig her heels in. 

Severus did not like the idea much but he drafted up a letter and sent it to his grandmother as the term came to a close. 

No threats, no intimidation, just simply asking Augusta if he could have Neville for the summer. 

She agreed. Her reply was short and simple. She made no overtures to see him, didn't ask to see Neville before the end of summer hols. 

He showed the reply to Severus who seemed to deflate a little that it was so simple after all his scheming. 

"I hope you don't mind spending the summer holiday with one of your students?" Laurence asked, though they hadn't exactly discussed what they would do during the summer months before the next term. 

Severus was still frowning down at the letter, looking like he wanted to test it for any slow acting poisons. "Of course not."

Laurence smiled fondly. "Minerva told me your dark secret, Severus. You don't actually like children."

"On the contrary. I don't like _idiot_ children. It just happens there's a lot of those." Severus tossed the letter onto the coffee table in front of them. "Neville is not an idiot, he just needs to be around people that don't treat him as one. Also, that's hardly my dark secret."

Laurence winced at his own wording. "Sorry, I didn't mean--"

"No, events have been as such that I feel like I owe you an explanation." Severus stood and walked to the window, folding his arms over his chest. 

"You don't." Laurence joined him, looking at the view outside. Severus' dungeon chambers had a lovely view of the giant squid and a passing school of mermaids. "You don't have to tell me anything until you're ready. Even if that's never."

"I would rather you learn the truth from me and not an outside source. That Skeeter woman is tenacious. But I fear what you'll think of me after you know." 

Laurence reached out to rub Severus' arm through his shirt sleeve. He wasn't wearing his outer robe but the man always wore long sleeves, even in the warmer weather. To hide the tattoo on his arm. "The same way I feel about you now. The man I'm falling in love with."

Severus turned to stare at him for a long moment before bending down to kiss him. The contact was still cautious, as if the older man feared to take it any further, but it still made Laurence's toes curl in happiness. 

Then the man stood tall again, dark eyes giving away probably more than he realized. "During the war, there was a prophecy. Dumbledore went to retrieve it and I, in service of the Dark Lord, spied on the prophecy being given." He repeated it for Laurence's sake. "It's because of that, that the Dark Lord went after two children in late July of that year. Potter and Neville. So you see, what happened to their parents, and your mother, is my fault."

Laurence frowned up at him. "It was war. There are two sides to every war."

"Oh, I knew my mistake." Severus seemed to hold himself tighter. "I begged the Dark Lord not to kill Lily, to spare her. I would've let all the rest of them die, even the children, if he'd just spare her. You see? I'm no hero, I'm far from that."

Laurence sighed. To be honest, he had suspected something like this when Severus refused to tell him. "You were young. Probably my age. And it was _war_. People make stupid mistakes, like the Potters trusting Black to be their secret keeper. If we're going to pass blame around for the Potters' demise, we should hold Black just as accountable for that night.

"As for my family, they were all three former Aurors. My uncle could have been Head Auror in another life. Even so, they hadn't been ready for the Lestranges' assault." Laurence eyed the man before him. "Besides, I hardly doubt you just let that go. You can't abide being outmaneuvered by anyone."

For just a moment, the worry lines on Severus' face softened. "I went to Dumbledore and warned him of the planned attacks on the Potters and the Longbottoms. Without that warning, your family nor theirs would've even known to be cautious. If anything, it offered them a few precious more weeks with their children. It's a small comfort but it's what I have.

"From that moment on, I've been Albus' man. I spied on the tyrant, bringing information to the Order of the Phoenix. The Dark Lord's refusal to give me the one thing I ever asked him for felt like the ultimate betrayal. After all his promises of power and glory, all his talk of strength and unity, I realized he had no plans to share any of it. Least of all with me."

Laurence's heart hurt for the man as he heard the truth underneath the words. He pulled Severus into his arms, standing on his toes so he could twine his arms around the taller man's shoulders. "It's okay. I know what it's like to be betrayed by someone with so much power over you. We've all been young and stupid."

Slowly, he felt Severus unwind, and he was hugged in return. "What have I done to deserve you?" the Potion's Master asked softly against his shoulder.

"By being your charming self."

Severus made a scoffing sound but he continued to hold onto Laurence. 

-

The Aurors went through Quirrell's belongings, looking for anything suspicious as they investigated.

A young Auror, just out of training, noticed a peculiar locket hiding in a drawer, but before she could grab it, Auror Moody snatched it up.

"Don't touch that!"

He held the locket in his gloved hand. It sizzled a little in his hand, the seals on his glove protecting his hand from curses and darkness.

Moody frowned at her with his one good eye, the glass one turning this way and that wildly in his socket. "Inform Shacklebolt. I've found the nasty thing we've been looking for."

The young Auror nodded hurriedly and went to do just that, as well as put some distance between herself and her crazy superior. 


End file.
